Just off the Key of Reason
by ElsBells
Summary: Faberry AU. Future fic. Rachel Berry is a successful Broadway star with a new roommate, the very odd, naive Quinn Fabray. It starts with a note on the fridge and a childishly scrawled doodle of an elephant. Everybody has a little crazy in them.
1. Chapter 1

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 1: You are the Dreamer**

_Hi, this is Quinn, your new roommate. I moved my stuff in this morning; I guess you were at work, but, you know, I wanted to leave you a note so you didn't think someone did…the opposite of rob you. Or something. Anyway, I went to get groceries. –Quinn _

_Oh, and if you aren't Rachel Berry, please tell her. Thank you._

Well…the note on Rachel's fridge was certainly unique. She had to admit, the first thing she'd thought when she caught sight of all the new stuff scattered around her apartment was _ohmygod somebody broke in and gave me all their belongings_! Then she'd regained her ability to think rationally and remembered that her new roommate was joining her today, and dear God, she'd left one of the stove burners on that morning after breakfast.

Her new roommate was Quinn Fabray, who apparently wrote in a childish scrawl that floated up and down the page, even on lined paper. She had drawn an elephant doodle in the bottom right hand corner and stuck the note to the fridge using a mini stuffed horse with magnetic feet that Rachel had never seen before. Of course, Rachel approved though; adorable things were her forte. She patted it on the head with a smile.

The building's landlord had been the one to find Rachel a roommate, as she was too busy with rehearsals to scour the streets of New York for somebody to fill the space of her ex-roomie. She knew she had driven the previous occupant around some sort of bend, what with her singing and talking and purchasing of a hyperactive golden retriever puppy with an affinity for shoes. In the end, either Barnaby or the roomie had to go, which is why Barnaby was now bounding out of Quinn's room, tongue lolling and eyes bright.

_Oh God_, Rachel thought. He must've destroyed something.

Rachel didn't really want to enter Quinn's room. She wasn't some nosy spy or anything; really, she was just loud and annoying, according to other people. But, she definitely didn't want her new roommate to come home and find her most prized possessions in slobbery shreds on the bedroom floor.

So she pushed the door further open and stepped inside.

Right into fucking Wonderland.

Quinn had obviously completely unpacked, as no boxes were present. But _holy mother of God_, how could a room be so cluttered when it had been occupied for less than a few hours? Rachel stood in the doorway, dazed, just taking it all in and patting Barnaby absently on his happy head for not wrecking anything.

Rachel took in the patterned and colorful bedding, full of blue and green and orange and yellow. There were matching purple lamps on the desk and side table, and there were- yeah, okay, shit- there were _four_ bookcases along the walls, filled to critical mass. Rachel actually feared for Quinn's safety; she didn't want to be awakened in the middle of the night to find her roommate dying under a four-ton bookcase full of crap.

Rachel couldn't resist walking closer to examine the "crap." Most of it was actually books, multiple copies of classics that looked well-worn and falling apart. She counted _Gulliver's Travels_ and _Alice in Wonderland_, everything by C.S. Lewis and Roald Dahl and Dickens, _Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde_, _Black Beauty_ and _Sherlock Holmes_. Rachel moved on, trailing her fingers lightly over their spines, and looked at the rest of the clutter.

She briefly wondered if Quinn was a hoarder. Her eyes widened; _oh God_, they'd end up on TV and Rachel would be the clueless roommate who had enabled Quinn to live in an unsanitary mountain of junk for an inordinate amount of time. She'd be the one breaking down into tears convincing Quinn to _just let that damn napkin go_!

Except, Quinn's stuff really wasn't junk. It was…fantastic.

Rachel loved the shelf full of snowglobes and hourglasses and pencil sharpeners. She loved the collection of hacky sacks and the small, blue piggy bank on the desk; the flock of miniature ceramic animals watching from one of the bookcases reminded Rachel of her own childhood. She smiled softly when she caught sight of the worn, faded, and slightly balding teddy bear sitting in the center of the bed, covers pulled up over him.

"Hi."

Rachel had never jumped so high in her life. She spun around, clutching her heart tightly, to find a woman with choppy blonde hair standing in the doorway, now looking slightly anxious and apologetic.

"Sorry." Quinn said, smiling nervously and petting an ecstatic Barnaby on his head. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Rachel didn't know where her words had gone. She did have a fully functional vocabulary, really, it had just vanished. Quinn was shifting back and forth, now focused solely on Barnaby. She wouldn't look Rachel in the eyes.

"I-no, it's okay. I promise I wasn't, you know, being a creeper." Rachel rushed. "Barnaby likes to eat things he shouldn't and I just wanted to make sure…well, your room is amazing."

Quinn flushed.

Hopefully this _was_ actually Quinn. This was the perfect start to a murder in a procedural TV show. Stalk Broadway star, act shy and aloof, violently kill in front of cute dog.

"You are Quinn, right?" Rachel asked, panicking for a moment.

Quinn nodded and smiled, meeting Rachel's eyes briefly before returning to Barnaby. She appreciated the dog, at least.

Rachel tilted her head and studied them. Barnaby rolled over and Quinn squatted down to rub his tummy, speaking to him under her breath.

"Have you seen _Hello, Dolly_?" Rachel asked, figuring focusing on the dog would be the best way to get Quinn's attention.

Quinn glanced up and shook her head.

Rachel smiled softly at her; she didn't want to scare the woman off this soon. "It's a wonderful film with Barbra Streisand. There are these two characters who sort of work together, Barnaby and Cornelius."

Rachel walked over and kneeled down on Barnaby's other side; Quinn watched her feet.

"I thought it would be a cute name for a dog." Rachel continued, waiting to see if this girl was going to speak again. "I'm glad you like him. Most strangers do, but roommates don't."

Quinn looked up and met Rachel's eyes for a moment. She looked confused. "Why wouldn't anyone like him?"

Rachel chuckled and ruffled Barnaby's ears fondly. "Well, like I said, the reason I was in here was to make sure he hadn't destroyed anything. He likes to eat shoes and pillows and…DVD players."

Quinn grinned and her teeth showed and Rachel's heart fluttered. This new girl really was beautiful.

Rachel stood up and Quinn watched her knees. "Come on, I'll help you put your groceries away. We can get to know each other." Rachel offered hopefully.

Quinn nodded and stood up, following Rachel into the kitchen where several shopping bags and a keychain with Scooby-Doo on it sat on the counter.

Rachel watched surreptitiously as Quinn quietly emptied some of the bags and started putting things away. Chocolate milk, Froot Loops, cans of Spaghetti-o's, Lucky Charms. She had to refrain from wincing at some of the dietary choices this woman was making.

"So, Quinn, what's your favorite food?" Rachel figured it was as good a place to start as any.

Quinn's voice was so light that Rachel had to focus to hear it.

"Macaroni and cheese."

Rachel lit up, spinning around with a grin. "I know how to make that! I mean, I'm a vegan, so, the vegan version, but it tastes amazing. I could make it tonight if you want? I promise you'll like it."

Quinn nodded slowly. "Okay." She hesitated and then met Rachel's eyes again. "What's yours? Your favorite food, I mean."

"Hmmm…"

Quinn chuckled at Rachel's thoughtful expression.

"Pizza and lasagna. Oh, and spaghetti with homemade sauce." Rachel mused. So many options. "Oh wait! Curry from The Green Mango; it's just pure…bliss. Heaven. I don't know; have you tried it?"

Rachel was desperately trying to control her word vomit. So far it was a success, but this woman didn't seem like the type to forcibly cut her off any time soon. To just say, _Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up woman, you're driving me crazy_.

Quinn shook her head. "You should introduce me."

"Oh definitely. They save me when rehearsals run late; I think I would starve if it wasn't for them."

Quinn closed the cabinet and turned to face Rachel. "What, um, what is it-I mean, I know you're on Broadway, but…what do you do?" Quinn was looking at and playing with the fading green polish on her fingers while Rachel watched her calmly, lips quirked slightly up.

"Have you seen _Funny Girl_, Quinn?"

Quinn shook her head.

Rachel smiled at her. "Well, we need to educate you on Barbra Streisand immediately. _Funny Girl _is the story of Fanny Brice and Nicky Arnstein, the evolution of their relationship and Fanny's career. Comedy, romance, drama." Rachel swayed around the kitchen, hands gesturing vaguely around to make her point. She came to a stop next to an intrigued Quinn and looked her right in the eyes. "I play Fanny."

"That's-you must be really talented." Quinn said, slightly awed.

Rachel flushed. "Well…you should come and see for yourself… What do you do?"

Quinn looked back down at the ground.

"I mean, you don't have to tell me." Rachel rushed.

"It's okay. I don't… have a job or anything. My aunt's paying for me to live here."

Rachel nodded and waited, but Quinn didn't continue. She ducked her head a little to catch the taller woman's eyes.

"What do you like to do? Aside from blatantly ignoring the legendary works of Barbra?"

Quinn smiled. "Maybe she's not as extraordinary as you think."

Okay. Well.

This was a stranger; it would not do to fly off the handle in a rage. Rein it in Rachel. Keep it together. You can still save this person from their Barbra ignorance.

Quinn must've noticed Rachel's jaw drop, or her expression of pure horror, and rushed to speak.

"Or, she is. Extraordinary, I mean. I wouldn't really know. I like animals."

Rachel's expression morphed from horror to amused confusion. Were those two statements linked? "You like animals?"

"Yeah. Form and function, aesthetically…animals in every way. Also, literature."

Rachel nodded. "Oh yeah, I saw all your books. It's so cool, you have so many."

Quinn grinned and maintained eye contact. "I like old bookstores, and I sort of pick up random things from thrift stores…flea markets, yard sales. If you couldn't tell."

Rachel laughed and opened the cabinet to pull out the ingredients for vegan macaroni. Barnaby came bounding in and Quinn beamed when he jumped up onto her, rubbing up and down his sides affectionately.

Rachel smiled at them. "Do you want to take him for his walk? There's a park I go to, a couple blocks down."

Quinn glanced up; she looked nervous. "Really?"

"Sure! He loves you, obviously more than me." Rachel glared exaggeratedly in Barnaby's direction and Quinn pressed her lips together in a smile.

"Okay."

Rachel gladly handed over the leash and watched as Quinn hooked it carefully onto the collar, before being dragged out the door by the excited golden retriever. Rachel smiled to herself and took a deep breath.

That had been interesting.

Quinn was…refreshing. Maybe a little nervous and naïve, but kind. She seemed like a dreamer. Rachel liked dreamers. She wondered where the woman had come from. Frankly, Rachel had surprised herself by not voicing every single question that popped into her head. Why won't you look me in the eye? Why are you so quiet? Why is your aunt paying for you? Why do you look like you descended from Heaven itself?

Hopefully she refrained from scaring the first roommate she had that didn't hate Barnaby with every fiber of her soul.

Quinn came back through the door about twenty minutes later and Barnaby ran straight over to his water bowl, tail wagging wildly.

"Hey! Barnes, were you a good boy?" Rachel asked, directing her question at Quinn, who walked through the living room and into the kitchen after him.

Quinn smiled. "He was wonderful. Do you need help?"

"It's pretty much finished. It just has to go in the oven for ten minutes. We could watch a movie or something?" Rachel offered.

"Can we watch-um, no nevermind, actually."

Rachel watched Quinn fidget with her hands again.

"No, what is it?"

Quinn hesitated and looked at Rachel's feet. "Well, you're probably sick of _Funny Girl_, right. I was gonna say we could-"

"Sick of _Funny Girl_!" Rachel's jaw dropped open and her hands flew into the air. "God, no! Never! Quinn, if I ever say I'm sick of _Funny Girl_, I want you to take care of Barnaby for me, and check me into a nice mental facility okay?"

Rachel had visions of not-nice mental facilities giving her electroshock therapy and locking her in a tower a la _Shutter Island_.

Quinn snorted and then flushed, covering her nose. Rachel just laughed.

"Will you watch it with me, Quinn?"

Quinn nodded, still red in the face, and made her way to the couch with Rachel right behind.

~ooooooooooo~

"So?" Rachel looked expectantly at Quinn three hours later. "Did you like it?"

Rachel tried to tell herself that this wouldn't make or break their potential friendship/roommate bond. She tried, but she failed.

Quinn tapped the pens she had been playing with against her thighs like drumsticks. She smiled hesitantly. "I think I'd like your version better."

Rachel tilted her head with a grin, and Quinn flushed under the gaze.

"I like you."

Quinn's ears were crimson as she twirled the pens around her fingers. "I-thank you?"

Rachel laughed. "I mean, I think I scare people, but you don't seem like I'm driving you crazy yet. Plus, Barnes has been drooling on you for half an hour and you haven't shoved him off the couch, so…perfect roommate."

Quinn tried to control her grin for a moment. "I think I scare people too."

Rachel smiled softly, and reached over the gap between the couch and the loveseat for the pens in Quinn's hands, looking coaxingly into hazel eyes to get the woman to hand them over. Quinn did, then folded her hands in her lap.

"Why do you think you scare people?" Rachel asked curiously.

Quinn shrugged and laughed, sort of self-deprecatingly. "I don't know. People think I'm…weird…or crazy…or something. I probably come across that way."

Rachel studied the woman who was now playing with the rubber bands around her wrists, hazel eyes not meeting brown.

"You're not any weirder or crazier than me…and I'm basically psychotic, Quinn." Rachel was being completely serious.

Quinn laughed.

"Really, I lost all my marbles in high school and they just never came back." Rachel continued, smiling. "I talk _constantly_. I sing Disney songs while I cook and dance with my vacuum cleaner. Last Halloween, I made _twelve_ jack-o-lanterns, one for each member of my cast at the time. That's twelve pumpkins, Quinn. Everybody's a little bit crazy."

Quinn couldn't control her smile, though it was shy and close-mouthed, she met Rachel's eyes and Rachel beamed back, then yawned, scrunching up her nose in displeasure. She was having fun now; she'd missed having a roommate to pester all night.

"I think I'm gonna go to bed now. Do you want the remote?"

Quinn shook her head and stood up. "No, me too. Goodnight, Rachel."

Rachel handed Quinn's pens back to her with a wink. "Night, Quinn. Sleep well in your new room."

~ooooooooo~

Rachel had said she was going to bed more out of habit than out of the belief that she would actually be getting some sleep. _Funny Girl _and gorgeous new roommates unfortunately weren't the cure for insomnia. This is why, only two hours after going to bed, she was awake to hear the creak outside her bedroom door.

She really didn't want to admit that her first thought was, "Oh fuck. She really _is_ crazy."

Rachel lay still for a minute, but then she heard another creak, and the telltale signs of light footsteps down the hall. She climbed out of bed and went over to her door and opened it quietly.

Quinn was standing outside her own door down the hall; she looked anxious and unsure, not really enthusiastic about going back into her room. She had that stuffed bear that had definitely seen better days hanging from one of her hands.

"Quinn." Rachel stage whispered to not terrify the woman. She walked fully out into the hall and towards the blonde.

Quinn looked towards her with wide eyes, obviously surprised.

"Did you need something?" Rachel asked. "Are you okay?"

She was really asking, "Were you planning on killing me in my sleep?"

Rachel just wanted to help; Quinn looked so confused and scared.

Quinn hesitated, and then seemed to realize she was holding her bear and moved it so it was sort of hidden behind her back. She flushed and nodded.

Rachel noticed her movement and just smiled softly at her. "Are you sure? I know it's a new place-"

"What's that sound?" Quinn interrupted.

Rachel stopped and listened, eyes darting around. She registered a faint groaning from up above. "Oh, it's just the pipes. The building's kind of old, you know."

Quinn nodded. "Does it stop?" she asked quietly.

"I don't…think so. You just get used to it after a while. I used to have sound cancelling headphones, but they cancelled the sound of my alarm so that was a disaster."

It was actually more than a disaster. She had woken up at noon, having missed half a rehearsal, and panicked when she thought she had gone completely deaf and would never be able to sing again. It gave her chills to think about.

Quinn laughed nervously and moved to go back through her bedroom door. "Okay, sorry if I woke you."

Rachel smiled. "No worries. You didn't. Will you be okay?"

"Yeah. Goodnight, Rachel. Again." Quinn smiled at the floor and shut her door quietly.

Rachel lingered to make sure all was well before returning to her own room. And then she crawled into bed with Barnaby and tried to remember what it was like when she'd first heard the groaning of the pipes. She'd been absolutely terrified.


	2. Chapter 2

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 2: One Foot in Your Bedroom**

When Rachel woke up, before the crack of dawn, she got ready quietly and in a sleep hazy blur, and grabbed coffee and a banana from the kitchen before heading out the door. Rehearsals went smoothly, despite the increasing bossiness that seemed to overtake her body when she was tired, and she definitely thought they were ready for opening night.

They got off early evening and Rachel got a smoothie from her favorite place before heading home. She thought about texting Quinn to see if she wanted one, but realized she didn't yet have the woman's number. So, being the awesome and generous person she was, she got Quinn one anyway.

Rachel walked through the door, not really knowing whether to expect Quinn to be home or not. She went through the entryway and into the living room and smiled when she caught sight of Quinn curled up in a ball, fast asleep on the couch. She put the smoothie in the fridge and pulled out some stuff to put a salad together for dinner.

Barnaby came trotting happily into the kitchen, and then a mussed up blonde head appeared in Rachel's line of sight, with a small smile on its face.

"Hey." Quinn greeted, voice laced with sleep. "How were rehearsals?"

Rachel waved her salad tongs around enthusiastically. "Hey! They were wonderful! We're so ready to open, Quinn, it's going to be _amazing_."

"It sounds like fun." Quinn remarked, leaning onto the breakfast bar and shaking her head around to settle her hair.

Rachel was amused. "_So_ much fun. You'll probably meet my cast sometime; they're just… fantastic." She enthused. "Oh! I got you a strawberry smoothie! It's in the fridge if you want it."

Rachel didn't bother waiting for Quinn to answer. She just swept over to the fridge and pulled it out and handed it to her.

Quinn smiled. "Thanks."

Rachel studied her and calmed herself down a little. "So, tired huh? Couldn't go back to sleep?"

Quinn sipped her drink. "Mm, no. I…It's going to take some getting used to." She said quietly.

"Well, you should get an early night. I don't have work tomorrow, so maybe we can do something? Are you from-have you seen the city yet?"

Quinn nodded. "Yeah, I've lived here for…a while."

Rachel waited to see if she would say more. She didn't elaborate. "Okay. Maybe we could hang out in Central Park, you know, get lunch or something? I have some friends coming over in the morning, so it would have to be after that."

"I-yeah, okay."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "Well, Quinn, try to contain your excitement, please."

Quinn flushed. "No…really, that sounds fun. I'm just not used to…people. Like, hanging out with people. People wanting to hang out with me."

Rachel thought for a moment. "We'll bring Barnes. He likes to chase…well, everything I guess. He actually goes a little psychotic..." Rachel narrowed her eyes. "You know, actually, maybe we shouldn't bring him."

"Aww, no, he'll behave." Quinn said, smiling down at the dog lying against the dishwasher. "Won't you Barnesy."

Rachel scoffed. "Psshht, of course he'll behave for _you_. He thinks you're his _lord_ or something. A goddess."

Rachel squatted down next to Barnaby and held his head with both her hands, looking straight into his happy brown eyes. "Look, B, I know she looks like an angel, and I can see why you're enamored with her," Rachel looked up to a crimson Quinn and gave her a wink, "but you're supposed to love _me_ more. Okay? Good boy."

Rachel stood up and went to sit next to Quinn at the breakfast bar with her salad. "He likes to pretend he doesn't understand me. But I know he does. I taught him to dance." Rachel said wisely, stuffing a few mini tomatoes in her mouth.

Quinn scrunched up her face in confusion and amusement. "He dances?"

"Oh yeah. He's a pro. Just make him get off his lazy ass and say _dance_. It works best if you have a conga line."

Rachel had only taught her dog to dance because she and Mercedes wanted to see who could get their dog to do the cooler trick. Barnaby learned _dance_. Mercedes' terrier learned _speak_, and had never shut up since.

Quinn narrowed her eyes and studied Rachel, trying to see if she was joking or not. Rachel caught this out of the corner of her eye and smiled, greens poking out of her mouth.

"Seriously, Quinn. My dog is a dancer." Rachel thought it should be obvious. She had tried teaching him to sing as well, but multiple complaints had been filed by the neighbors.

Quinn stood up and walked over to Barnaby, who stood immediately for her. Quinn smirked, and Rachel scoffed at the unfairness of it all.

"Traitor dog." Rachel muttered under her breath.

"Okay, Barnes, _dance_."

Barnaby did nothing. Just sat and watched Quinn contentedly. Quinn rolled her eyes and sighed, then turned around. "I knew-"

"No, try again. Really, I'm not making this up." Rachel insisted. "Dance, Barnesy. Come on, B, dance."

Barnaby jumped up a little bit and lost his balance, then jumped again and shuffled around on his hind legs, so his lolling tongue came up to Quinn's chest. Quinn grinned and laughed. "Oh my God, your dog dances! That is so cool!"

Rachel chuckled, a little surprised. That was the loudest she'd heard Quinn speak; she sounded so excited. She _looked_ so excited. Her mouth was _huge_.

"He won't learn anything else. He doesn't even know 'sit,' but he'll dance his little fluffy butt off if you have a treat." Rachel explained.

Quinn just kept smiling and crouched down to rub Barnaby's tummy.

"Did you have lots of pets? You seem really great with animals. Well, dogs. Or, one dog." Rachel babbled.

"No." Quinn said quietly, still smiling softly.

Rachel nodded and bit her lip, waiting for the woman to elaborate, but no more words came. "Okay, well, I'm off to bed." Rachel slid off her stool and nudged Barnaby out of the way to put her bowl in the dishwasher. "Goodnight Quinn."

"Night, Rach."

Rachel smiled at the name as she made her way to her room. She thought about ways to teach Barnaby to sing. Seriously, Rachel Berry's dog should be able to sing like those huskies on YouTube. She would find a way to do it without being evicted.

~oooooooooo~

Three hours later, Rachel was still awake and suffering from deja vu. She heard the creaking in the hallway and didn't hesitate in sliding out of bed and opening her bedroom door. Quinn was in the hallway again, shuffling around nervously outside her own bedroom door.

"Is it the pipes again?" Rachel asked quietly.

Quinn startled a little, but nodded, eyes fixed on the ground. She didn't even bother trying to hide the bear behind her back this time.

Rachel pursed her lips and thought for a moment. "Come on." She finally said, gesturing for Quinn to join her. "You can sleep in my bed." Rachel just figured things were less scary when there was someone next to you.

Quinn looked nervous; her eyes were still focused on the ground.

"Barnaby's in my bed." Rachel said nonchalantly, trying to coax Quinn. She didn't want to have to outright beg this woman to get in her bed; that would be a little…desperate. Quinn's eyes flickered to hers for a moment. "He would be inordinately pleased if you joined him." Rachel continued, lips quirked up a little.

Quinn stepped hesitantly in Rachel's direction and Rachel smiled. She allowed Quinn to enter her room first and directed her to the other side of the bed, the one that didn't have the warm spot that Barnaby had _stolen_. They both slid under the covers, smiling as the dog's tail thumped against the blankets, though his eyes remained closed.

"Can I turn off the lights?" Rachel asked, not sure if the hall light seeping under the door would be enough for Quinn. She used to turn it off, until one night she went to get a drink of water and stubbed her toe in the dark so that she couldn't dance for two days. Horrible night.

"Yeah." Quinn said softly.

Rachel glanced over in the dark and smiled at the bear cuddled up to the woman's chest.

"What's his name?" Rachel whispered, then gestured at the shadow of the stuffed animal when Quinn turned to look at her.

"It's…Pooh Bear." Quinn said into the darkness, embarrassed.

Rachel grinned. "But it's not a Winnie the Pooh."

"No…I mean, I wanted one, but, I never…I got Pooh Bear instead."

Rachel rolled over to face Quinn, who was still on her back with the bear pressed to her chest.

"I have a lion." Rachel offered, smiling when Quinn turned on her side to face her. "His name's Fuzzy. He got-hey! Don't laugh! I was three, okay." Rachel chuckled and tapped Pooh Bear on the nose.

"Anyway, he got really worn out. I mean, _seriously_; he could not keep up with Rachel Barbra Berry at all. I actually kept him on my bed until I got B here, a year ago. Then B ate one of Fuzzy's legs and-,"

Quinn gasped and Rachel smiled reassuringly, grabbing one of her hands. "and now he lives in my closet. _Safe and sound._ Happily stitched up and overcoming the odds with three legs."

Quinn chuckled and buried her nose in the bear.

"Alright, Quinn." Rachel said with faux strictness. "Goodnight for real this time. No more wandering the house in the middle of the night like some kind of nightmare from _Paranormal Activity_, okay?"

Exactly the kind of movie she wanted to think about before bed.

Quinn nodded and, to Rachel's surprise, kissed the small hand that was holding Quinn's. Rachel was glad her blush couldn't be seen in the dark room.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel woke up the next day to an empty bed, her arms wrapped around…Pooh Bear? She slid out of bed and tucked the bear under the covers, like he had been in Quinn's room that first day. She then changed into sweats and a t-shirt, so that she would be sort of presentable for her friends, and made her way out to the kitchen. Quinn was sitting at the breakfast bar in sleep shorts and a long sleeved tee, and a severe case of bed head, obliviously funneling Lucky Charms into her mouth.

"Good morning!" Rachel sing-songed. She ruffled Quinn's hair as she walked through to the kitchen. Quinn choked on a few Lucky Charms and ducked her head shyly.

"Mmbormrin." She said around her mouthful. Rachel laughed and poured herself some coffee.

"Did you sleep well?" Rachel asked. Rachel was surprised; she actually fell asleep as soon as Quinn joined her.

Sure a nightmare about sleepwalking people who creepily stand by the bed and watch you in your slumber plagued her, but hey, she was asleep at least. And she was burning her copy of _Paranormal Activity._

Quinn nodded. "I took Barnaby out this morning. I tried to wake you because he was whining, but you were sort of…you looked-I didn't want to disturb you." Quinn finished with a pink tint to her cheeks.

Rachel smiled reassuringly right as there was a knock on the front door. She looked to the door and rolled her eyes.

"Those are my friends. This is the first time in my lifetime they've _ever_ shown up early to anything." She remarked. "You'll like them…just be yourself." She said more quietly.

Quinn kept playing with the marshmallows in her milk. Her legs started bouncing up and down, but she met Rachel's eyes and nodded.

"Open the door Berry! I need a fucking Ziploc bag!"

Rachel shook her head and laughed to calm Quinn's nervous expression.

"Rachel!" A separate voice came muffled through the door. "Open the damn door! I had a Hot Pocket this morning! It was a mistake that's quickly turning into a disaster!"

"Dear God, Rachel, open the door!" A third voice yelled.

Rachel looked slightly horrified as she finally walked over to the door and swung it open. Quinn focused on eating her marshmallows.

Rachel bowed in fake hospitality to her guests, waving them inside. "Come on in, ladies, gentlemen. Thank you for being _patient_ and not disrupting the neighbors _at all_."

"I'm hitting your can, Rach." Puck stated, sort of frantically scurrying through the living room, only in the state of mind to glance at Quinn.

"Berry. I need a goddamned Ziploc bag right now."

"Why do-Ohmygod, Santana! What is that?"

Rachel stared, disgusted and intrigued, at the dead animal that Santana held on a stiff piece of paper, out of the eyeline of Brittany.

"It's a frog. I'm taking an anatomy class and we're supposed to find dead insects to study."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Frogs aren't insects. She knows. Supposedly. She says bigger is better for studying anatomy; you're lucky we stopped her from scooping an armadillo into a trash bag yesterday."

"Speaking of fucking bags," Santana interjected loudly, "I need a damn Ziploc bag right now."

"Stay calm, okay." Rachel held up her hands to placate the woman waving around the dead amphibian in her living room. She pointed to the frog and then to Santana's face. "Don't drop it."

Santana smirked and shrugged. "Whatever."

Rachel passed behind Quinn as she entered the kitchen and whispered in her ear. "They're _insane_." Quinn smiled to herself.

"Hey there's a new person in here!" Brittany exclaimed, bounding away from Santana and taking the seat next to Quinn at the breakfast bar. Santana followed and placed the dead frog on the paper on the fucking countertop.

"Ohmygod! Santana!" Rachel lunged across the surface and tossed a Ziploc bag in Santana's direction. "Put it in there! You're disgusting!"

Rachel shook her head in disbelief. God, these people. Then she noticed Quinn's hyperactive, bouncy legs and nervous eyes which refused to meet the bright, innocent blue ones directed at her.

"Britt, Santana." Rachel said. "Kurt!" she called slightly louder so the boy on the couch could hear. "This is Quinn Fabray, my wonderful new roommate."

Quinn flushed and smiled shyly, keeping her eyes focused on peoples' lips rather than their eyes.

"Oh God, they gave you another person to drive crazy? Shit, Fabray, you don't know what you're in for."

"Shut up, Santana!" Rachel defended. "You're probably a horrible roommate to Brittany. You just put a _dead frog_ on my kitchen counter."

Santana rolled her eyes and dragged Brittany to sit on the love seat with her. "Come. Join us, Quinn Fabray." She said, waving her hand around and gesturing to the empty chairs in the living room. "I need to find out if you can handle Berry's brand of crazy."

Quinn glanced at Rachel, who smiled softly at her and leaned forward to whisper so only Quinn could hear.

"She's harmless. Really. Like a Chihuahua. You can just ignore her if you don't want to talk to her right now. She'll get distracted by something else."

Rachel could see that Quinn was tempted to just go back to her bedroom, so she was surprised when the blonde got up and put her bowl in the dishwasher, then went and sat in one of the armchairs in the living room. She pulled her feet up under her and shook her hair out to untangle it.

Rachel smiled and went to sit in the chair next to her when Puck finally emerged from the bathroom, Barnaby hot on his heels.

"Oh God, Puck," Kurt said, "I forgot you were even here."

Puck nodded sagely. "Dude, Hot Pockets will do things to you. I really think I need to see a chiropractor or acupuncturist or something."

Rachel winced. Puck moved to sit next to Kurt and brightened as he caught sight of Quinn.

"Oh score, Rach! Hottie as the new roommate!"

"Noah!" Rachel scolded. "Be appropriate!"

"Rachel," Brittany started, "that's like telling a chocolate cake to be vanilla. It's like, way less tasty. And racist."

Quinn was distracted enough by _that_ statement to look Brittany in the eyes. Brittany just smiled at her and Quinn returned it shakily before averting her gaze.

"So, blondie, where are you from?" Santana asked, staring deeply into Quinn's soul.

Rachel thought Santana looked like a psychopath. She didn't know whether to intervene or just let this play out. She just leaned more fully on the side of her chair that was closest to Quinn. Maybe she would learn some things about her odd new roommate.

"I'm from here." Quinn said, quietly.

"You don't seem very sure of that." Santana remarked. Brittany punched her in the arm.

"That must have been wonderful, growing up in New York." Kurt said with bright eyes. "We're all from Ohio, which is really…" He scrunched up his nose and Santana nodded in agreement.

"What do you do?" Puck asked, stretching out and putting his boots up on the coffee table.

Rachel fought the urge to shove them off. Boots, frogs, whatever. She liked to think herself a tolerant person.

Quinn bit her lip and started messing with the rubber band around her wrist. "I don't have-I'm not employed or anything right now…I have hobbies. Books."

Rachel smiled. "She has so many books, it's amazing. Oh! And animals, Quinn. Barnaby has fallen in love with her."

Santana nodded and narrowed her eyes. "I'm sure he has."

Rachel studied her suspiciously.

"How can you afford to live in the city if you don't have a job?" Santana switched tracks.

"Santana!" Rachel exclaimed. "You can't ask people that!"

Rachel really needed a leash for the girl. Or a shock collar, or something. Anything to ward off her inappropriate behavior. She could just zap Santana every time she opened her mouth.

Quinn smiled at Rachel. "My aunt pays for it." She told everyone else.

Rachel could tell Santana didn't want to stop digging until she got Quinn to tell her the secrets of the universe. Surprisingly, Quinn continued.

"I got into Columbia a few years ago, so I'm not…you know…completely unqualified. Um, but I was homeschooled after elementary school and I didn't think college would be…right. For me."

Quinn ducked her head and stretched her rubber band back and forth rapidly. Kurt was watching her carefully and beat Rachel for a change of subject.

"We were just stopping by on the way to my store." He said kindly to Quinn. "I'm an interior designer. Puck's my handyman. Santana, well I have no idea why she's with us. She likes to pretend she hates us, then lets Britt drag her everywhere we go, so…"

"Shut it, Hummel. God, I'm bored already. Ready to go?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and stood up to retrieve the frog from the kitchen. Santana followed her and pulled her behind a wall so nobody could see them.

"Rachel. What's with this girl? Is something wrong with her, or is she just a bitch? Because she seems like a bitch."

Rachel was grateful for how caring and considerate her friends were.

"What, no, Santana." Rachel exhaled in exasperation. "She's sweet. I think she's just shy, and you're really scary to people who don't know that your favorite pajamas have pink, fluffy bunnies on them. And if you say the word _bitch_ one more time, I'll throw you off the balcony."

Santana chose to ignore the bulk of that statement. "She won't look us in the eye. She _seems_ like a serial killer. A hot one, but a serial killer."

"She's _shy_." Rachel said again, more firmly. "She needs to get to know us better."

"Great!" Santana grinned. Rachel was scared. "Because we're taking you guys out to a club tomorrow night. And wear something nicer than that ratty ass shit you've got on now, Berry."

Rachel expected nothing less; she shook her head and just walked away. Puck and Brittany were at the door, and she watched Kurt shake Quinn's hand softly and tell her it was nice to meet her. Quinn murmured her "you too," with a shy smile, looking into his blue eyes.

The door slammed as everyone finally left and Rachel leaned back on it with her eyes closed. She shook her head at Quinn. "God, these people…"

Quinn gave her a small smile and poured herself more Lucky Charms.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks so much for the feedback guys. I'm glad you all find Quinn so adorable! Hope everybody had a happy, safe Thanksgiving.

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 3: Far from the Madding Crowd**

Since it was February, and they were in New York, walking through Central Park, Rachel was _freezing_. Her apartment had deceived her into thinking it was warmer outside than it actually was. Now, she strolled along next to Quinn, trying to stop her teeth from chattering. Fucking _Siri_ was a liar.

Quinn glanced down and studied her for a moment, a frown forming on her face.

"Are you cold?"

Rachel smiled regretfully and nodded as her teeth clicked together. "I know, I know. I should've been prepared. I feel like I'm on an Arctic expedition."

Quinn slid her coat off her shoulders and went to drape it over Rachel. "Here. Put this on." Rachel was surprised, but allowed the taller woman to help her slide her arms through.

"Won't you be cold?" Rachel asked worriedly.

Quinn just shook her head with a small smile and went back to playing with the flaps on her mittens. They had gotten lunch at Rachel's favorite café, and were now walking it off in the Park. Rachel looked up when she noticed Quinn's head pop up and a slight bounce appear in her step. The blonde's eyes were bright and innocent and excited, and Rachel followed the line of sight. Straight to a balloon man. Rachel smiled.

Rachel didn't say anything; she wanted to see if Quinn would stop them. Sure enough, they _almost _passed the vendor before Quinn slowed, then turned to Rachel and stopped, biting her lip.

"I want to get a balloon." She blurted, then made a WTF face like she didn't know why she said that.

Rachel grinned knowingly and pulled her over to the vendor. "Me too!"

Quinn looked surprised and excited. Rachel asked for a purple one.

"Um, can I have a blue one…and a yellow one, please? And a green one?" Quinn said shyly.

Rachel smiled and put a hand on Quinn's shoulder. "I think my friend here needs a balloon animal hat as well." Rachel studied her for a moment, then nodded decisively. "A lion. Definitely a lion."

Rachel hoped this guy knew what he was doing, otherwise it'd come out as a hat of yellow sausages. Quinn really didn't need that.

The vendor grinned at them. "Alrighty. What about one for you?"

Rachel started to shake her head, but Quinn held the hand that had been on her shoulder and interrupted quietly. "She needs one too." She glanced down at Rachel. "A bear. Please."

The man nodded happily and made their hats and handed them their colorful balloons. They actually looked like animals, which made Rachel and Quinn look sort of like fools, but, whatever. They were fabulous.

"What now?" Rachel asked. Her balloon hat was slightly too big so it sat crookedly on her head. Quinn focused on tying the string of one of her balloons to her wrist. Rachel tried not to smile.

"Um, we could…I don't know, lie in the sun for a while? It might warm you up. I'd just rather stay outside, than…"

"Perfect." Rachel said brightly. She smiled as Quinn tossed a few dollars in a homeless man's hat, offering him a wave and small, "hi."

She wondered how this woman got to be so sweet, and why she didn't share enough of it with the world.

~oooooooooo~

"Quinn!" Rachel proclaimed, striding out of her bedroom when they got home. "I still don't have your cell phone number."

Quinn was curled in a corner of the couch with one of her books. Rachel watched realization dawn on her face.

"I don't have one." Quinn said somewhat sheepishly, eyes going back to her book.

Rachel was not able to process this fact. Her own life would fall to pieces if she didn't have her phone; she'd end up living in a cardboard box by the river not knowing her name and singing to the ducks.

"You don't…have a phone?" Rachel was wide-eyed. Quinn was starting to look uncomfortable. She shook her head.

Rachel hesitated and schooled her features into something less…judgmental. She really was just fascinated. "Why not?" she asked.

Quinn shrugged her shoulders lightly. "I don't need one." She said quietly. Rachel studied her for a moment and went and sat on the other end of the couch.

"How do you contact people? Talk to friends?" Rachel asked, the shock in her voice replaced with curiosity.

Quinn frowned, still with her face in the book. "Who?" she asked.

Rachel sighed. "Quinn."

Quinn didn't respond. Rachel ducked her head a little lower.

"Can you look at me, please?"

Quinn bit her lip and dragged her eyes up to meet Rachel's warm brown ones.

"Thank you." Rachel smiled. "But, what about your aunt? Don't you have to talk to her?"

Quinn's eyes flickered away, but returned to Rachel's after a moment. She shrugged again. "If she wanted to talk to me she could use the landline."

"You don't talk to her?"

Quinn shook her head slowly. "Not really."

Well, that wasn't right, Rachel thought. If Rachel was this sweet girl's aunt, she'd be calling every day to make sure the woman was eating more than sugary cereal and Twinkies for dinner and wasn't being abducted after playing on the swings in the park. In fact, she'd probably do that as Rachel. So, logical conclusion, get Quinn a phone.

Rachel leapt up off the couch and strode over to the kitchen counter, where she grabbed her bag.

"Come on, Quinn. We're getting you a phone."

Quinn didn't move, just watched with wide eyes from her position on the couch.

Rachel quieted her enthusiasm a little bit, and went and sat back down, with Quinn's coat and bag in her hands.

"I mean, I'm not forcing you, but it would be cool to be able to text you during the day."

Quinn looked surprised. She was running her fingers along the edges of the pages. "You'd text me?"

"Of course!" Rachel grinned. "You can distract me during my lunch breaks, and I can call you and complain about Santana being a bitch, or coordinate picking up take-out…Plus, I don't think I've ever used our land line in my life; I'm not entirely sure how it works."

Quinn smiled and bit her lip. Rachel waited.

"Can I put games on it?" Quinn asked, hazel eyes staring right into Rachel's bright ones.

"Ohmygod, I have to introduce you to my friend Artie! He can teach you about this game called Angry Birds, and then it will consume your life and I'll probably never see you again."

Rachel was serious. When she'd first gotten Angry Birds, she'd lost a piece of her soul. Being the perfectionist she was, she had used one of her math books to study the slingshot angles. She had even started building a life size version of the game in her backyard, a perfectly logical way to gain practical experience to beat this thing, when her dads staged an intervention.

Quinn smiled and put down her book. They got home later with a new iPhone, a blue case with an elephant on it, and the latest version of Angry Birds from the App store.

~oooooooooo~

The next day, after dinner, Rachel was sitting in the living room with Quinn, waiting for her friends to get there to pick them up for the club. Apparently, yesterday was the only day they would ever be early for something, and it was never going to happen again. Sure, they had called and said that Puck had hammered a nail into his thumb and they were delayed at the hospital, but that was not a good enough excuse in Rachel Berry's book.

She sighed in exasperation and glanced around. Quinn's knees were bouncing around like a horse in a gallop and she was focused on picking at the frays of the belt on her coat.

"Quinn." Rachel said quietly. Quinn halted all movements and looked up, eyes fixing on Rachel's lips. Rachel gave her a small smile and Quinn sat on her hands, ears turning pink.

_Finally_ Rachel's cell buzzed with a message that said her friends were down in a cab waiting for them. Well, it actually said "get down here, our driver's an ass," so Rachel led Quinn down to the elevator and then outside and into the back of a very crowded cab.

It wasn't Rachel's fault that she ended up halfway in Quinn's lap, the blonde flushing deeply and focusing her eyes out the window. Santana and Puck seemed far too amused by this. They got to the club without any groping incidents, well, intentional groping incidents, and tumbled out of the cab in relief.

Quinn had that anxious look on her face again. She wouldn't stop playing with the cuffs of her jacket, and finally Rachel just stilled Quinn's hands with her own, and held them as they got a booth along one of the walls in the club.

Rachel glanced at Santana and rolled her eyes; the woman was already in an argument with some guy at the bar. They had literally just walked through the door and she found herself wondering if Santana was drunk. Rachel supposed it was just Santana's personality; the kind of person who came off as perpetually drunk.

She and Brittany returned to the table with six shots and Rachel took a deep breath. This was going to be a long night

Quinn's eyes were focused on the shot that was set in front of her. "Um, I don't…drink." She said quietly. Santana just stared at her.

Rachel nodded in realization, and nudged the nervous blonde with her shoulder in reassurance. "Puck, can you get her something else to drink?"

Puck seemed conflicted. Or constipated. He seemed to be having trouble processing. Rachel waited; he'd grasp everything eventually. After a moment he closed his mouth, nodding silently, and went up to the bar.

Santana seemed to have regained the use of her words. "Why the fuck don't you drink?" She sputtered in disbelief. Rachel leaned away from her; really, Santana couldn't seem to fathom this non-alcoholic phenomenon.

"I just don't, um, I don't like it." Quinn replied softly, hunching over the table and playing with her sleeves again. "Sorry." She mumbled.

"Whoa, don't apologize, Quinn." Rachel said, wide-eyed and glaring at Santana. She absently rubbed the blonde's back.

Santana ignored her. "What do you mean you _don't like it_?"

Brittany grabbed Santana's face and turned it around to face her. "San. Stop." She said slowly. "Leave her alone." Santana rolled her eyes but acquiesced. "It's just weird." She muttered.

"Because we're not all alcoholics like you?" Kurt remarked. Rachel smiled gratefully at him as Puck returned with a water for Quinn.

"Thanks." She said in a small voice.

"No problem." Puck grinned.

About half an hour later, when they were suitably intoxicated, Brittany grabbed Santana and dragged her out to the dance floor. Kurt was chatting the bartender up, though Rachel had no idea why. She had never seen a more manly man fix drinks in her life. Puck had vanished about ten minutes after they'd entered the club, never to be seen again.

Rachel was glad Quinn seemed to have relaxed a little. She was actually looking around now, and tapping some extra straws against the table like drumsticks.

"You know, you do that a lot." Rachel remarked observantly.

Quinn slowed down her tapping and glanced at Rachel, but didn't say anything.

"It's like you can't sit still." Rachel continued. "Hyperactive." Rachel tried to step carefully; really, it was just the alcohol playing it a little fast and loose with words like _hyperactive_.

Quinn nodded and stopped tapping all together. She held her hands like she didn't know what to do with them. Rachel watched her.

"It's not _bad_." She said. "It's cute."

Quinn flushed. "It's a-I mean it's like a tic…sort of. Like, a nervous habit. I-my aunt-she used to hate it. She gave me medicine for it."

Rachel furrowed her brow. "What? To stop it?"

"Yeah. Just, I don't know…dull everything down…" Quinn trailed off quietly.

Rachel thought this over, and then picked up the straws Quinn had dropped and tapped out her own beat on the table. She smiled at Quinn. "I don't like dull. Your way is much better."

Quinn bit her lip to contain her smile and grabbed more straws from the pile. When Kurt returned, unsurprisingly unsuccessful in his quest to convert a heterosexual man, they were having a drum war. Well, Quinn was having a drum war. Rachel was making a fool of herself after knocking over her drink when she tried to use it as a hi-hat. She didn't mind; she found Quinn's shy laughter sort of heartwarming and wanted to do it again to keep the sound going.

"Do you guys know where Britt and Santana went?" Kurt asked, shielding his drink from the wrath of Rachel's straws.

Rachel shook her head and stopped playing. "They're probably having sex in the bathroom." She felt Quinn gasp next to her and turned to look at the blonde.

"They would do that here?" she asked incredulously, uncharacteristically loud.

Rachel laughed and raised her eyebrows. "Yeah. When's the last time you went to a club?" Quinn flushed and ducked her head. Rachel chastised herself. Rachel Barbra Berry, think before you speak. Don't blurt. And stop knocking peoples' fucking drinks over, you look like a slob.

Rachel tapped Quinn's cheek with one of her straws. "Sorry. I didn't-"

"I've never been. To a club, I mean. I've never been to a club before." Quinn said before Rachel could word vomit some more. She was glad Kurt had turned his back and was pretending this whole exchange wasn't occurring.

"Oh." Rachel wondered what the opposite of word vomit was. Quinn glanced over and met brown eyes, and gave Rachel a small, bashful smile, which Rachel returned. She didn't bother searching for her vocabulary.

Brittany and Santana slid back into the booth a minute later, definitely looking like they'd either just stepped out of a wind tunnel or ravished each other in the bathroom.

"Hey blondie," Santana called from the end of the table. "You find anyone you can take home? I mean, we know Rachel here's a fucking hermit," Rachel rolled her eyes, "but I'm sure we can find a pretty boy for you."

"Well, whatever you do, don't go for the bartender. He fails to appreciate any good qualities that a person may have." Kurt remarked bitterly.

"I'm actually gay." Quinn murmured, eyes on her drink, blowing bubbles into the water.

Rachel knocked her fucking drink all over the place again. Holy mother of-contain yourself Rachel. Control yourself. Kurt screeched like it was lava approaching the edge near his lap.

"Jesus, man, calm down." Santana said, grinning maniacally, eyes fixed on Rachel's face. Quinn was still blowing bubbles through her straw, slightly faster, more panicky bubbles.

"You're gay, Fabray?" Santana asked loudly. Obviously she needed the whole club to hear, just to be sure.

Quinn looked in her direction warily. "Yes."

Santana looked like it was Christmas morning, or she was planning something that could only end in disaster. Rachel felt the urge to put her body between Quinn's and Santana's to protect the woman next to her.

"Did you know you're on the same team as Berry?" Santana looked like the fucking cat that ate the canary. Rachel was bright red and Quinn wasn't fairing much better. Kurt was ignoring everybody and everything, trying to get Rachel's drink out of his pants.

Quinn obviously had no idea what to say. "Um, I…no?"

Rachel covered her eyes with her hands to collect herself and block out Santana's goddamned face. She turned to speak to Quinn quietly, hoping her eyes were calm, but knowing they probably looked like damn crackhead's.

"Thank you for telling us, Quinn." She said simply, after ducking her head to catch hazel eyes.

Quinn nodded hesitantly. "I-thank you for…telling me. Santana, I guess." Quinn scrunched up her face. Rachel figured she hadn't meant to thank Santana. Most people don't; it's usually an unavoidable accident.

"It's okay. I would've told you anyway. Santana just likes to stick her poky little hands in everybody else's business because she knows we're cooler than her." Rachel said, lips quirked. She expected to hear a 'shut the fuck up!' come down the table and was pleasantly surprised when it never happened. Then she almost vomited when she looked at Santana and found her latched onto Brittany's face.

Kurt was stuck in a permanent face-palm. Or maybe he was mourning the loss of his favorite pants to Rachel's drinks and drumming mishap. Whatever. Rachel felt much lighter now; happier, like anything could happen.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: You people are just wonderful! And fret not, we'll learn more about Quinn soon…

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 4: Something Make My Chest Stir**

A few days later, Rachel came home from rehearsals fully expecting Quinn to be in the apartment. Quinn didn't really go anywhere, unless it was to walk Barnaby or to pick up take out, and Rachel sort of liked having somebody to come home to. She really liked the fact that she was actually sleeping well at night, because Quinn had been joining her, quietly and bashfully, with Pooh Bear at her side. Rachel figured it was a solution that benefited them both, so it was the logical, practical thing to do.

When she walked through the door, her eyes landed on Quinn sitting at the breakfast bar, stuffing what looked like freshly made peanut butter cookies in her mouth. Quinn glanced in Rachel's direction; now she frequently maintained eye contact, which Rachel enjoyed, because really, who wouldn't?

She ruffled the blonde's choppy hair as she walked by and Quinn ducked her head as she always did, trying to swallow her mouthful of cookie. She looked excited, and Rachel waited expectantly with a smile on her face.

"Rachel."

Rachel laughed. "Yes, Quinn?"

Quinn seemed like she couldn't contain her smile. "I made you vegan celebratory peanut butter cookies."

Rachel raised her eyebrows in surprise. The greatest lengths she had seen Quinn go to for food preparation involved pouring milk on Froot Loops. Rachel looked down at the plate. There were only four cookies left.

"So, you ate, what, like twelve, before I got home?"

Quinn flushed but kept smiling. "Well, you were taking forever." She defended, shoving the plate in front of Rachel. "And I'm just such an amazing baker, I couldn't resist."

Did Quinn just make a joke? Did she just _brag_? Oh, good, Rachel was rubbing off on her.

Rachel scrunched up her nose and took a bite of one of the cookies. Holy mother of God, it tasted like an angel. Quinn grinned at Rachel's expression. Rachel just tried to make her face look less orgasmic.

"Did you say these were celebratory cookies?" she asked. Quinn nodded, her smile now open-mouthed and in full force. Rachel studied her for a moment with a grin of her own. She knew Quinn was waiting for her to ask, but she waited. She turned around, acting like she was going back to her room, and Quinn made an unintelligible noise of protest.

Rachel swung back around, an innocent expression on her face. Quinn was biting her lip, and Rachel couldn't take it anymore.

"What are we celebrating, Quinn Fabray?" Rachel set the plate of cookies down. She tended to go a little overboard with celebrations and didn't want them to end up as Barnaby's dinner on the floor.

"I got a job."

Rachel's face brightened even more. "You got a job?"

Quinn laughed and nodded. "At that dog rescue, a few blocks away. I get to feed them and walk them and-"

Quinn was cut off as Rachel threw her arms around her. She stiffened a little at first, but Rachel would not let anybody reject a Rachel Barbra Berry hug. Quinn smelled like gummy bears.

"That's so great." She said into Quinn's neck, then frowned and pulled away.

"Quinn!"

Quinn's smile faded a little bit, but she didn't get the chance to answer.

"You go out and get a job and I'm all proud and happy for you, and you leave me _four_ cookies to celebrate with! This is not acceptable." Rachel put her hands on her hips. She was not fucking kidding around here. Quinn watched her, a little amused, a little scared.

"Um, we could make more…" She suggested quietly. Rachel stared at her for a second, before jumping up and down and clapping her hands.

"Yes! That'll be even more fun! You can show me how you make them! God," Rachel stopped jumping and took a breath. She felt eyes felt like they were tearing up; her body was just too dramatic for its own good. "I'm so proud of you."

Sure, she'd known Quinn, for, like a week, but it was just impossible not to love this sweet girl. She knew Quinn had problems with people, and the fact that she went out and got a job, a job where she'd work with puppies all fucking day, God…Rachel just could not contain herself.

"What, no, Rachel don't-don't cry." Quinn looked distraught now. Rachel waved her hands around vaguely; she wanted to say, 'no, I'm fine, just so happy,' so she hoped her improvised sign language got the message across.

Quinn stood and lifted her arms like she was going to hug Rachel again, but seemed to decide against it, and looked down at the ground instead. Rachel laughed through her tears and wrapped her arms around Quinn.

Quinn held her for a minute, until Rachel pulled back with a massive grin on her shiny face.

"God, pull yourself together woman." Quinn said with a small smile. Rachel just laughed and moved into the kitchen with her plate of cookies.

Three hours later, they were laid out on the couch, plates of chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies balanced on their bodies and on the coffee table. Rachel couldn't blame Quinn for eating all her celebratory cookies earlier, seeing as she was on her fourteenth chocolate chip cookie at the moment. The kitchen was in disarray behind them; Barnaby had been turned white after a flour fight, but Quinn's hands were sitting still on her lap and there was a small, content smile on her face. Right now, that's all that mattered to Rachel.

~oooooooooo~

"_Wake me up before you go-go_

'_cause I'm not plannin' on goin' solo_

_Wake me up before you go-go_

_Take me dancing tonight_

_I wanna hit that high"_

Rachel jitterbugged around the kitchen, singing into her spatula and trying to drag out that "high" as long as possible. She spied Quinn walking, or stumbling in a blind, sleepy haze, out of Rachel's bedroom, and waved her over with the utensil in her hand.

Quinn blinked at her for a minute before stalking over to the breakfast bar and laying her head down on her arms. Rachel stopped singing and reached over to ruffle the blonde hair.

"You okay?"

Quinn lifted her head up and nodded, flushing a little. "Did you _send_ Barnaby to wake me up? Or does he just, like, do that…?"

Rachel turned her back to Quinn, unable to hide her guilty smile. She really hadn't said to Barnaby, 'go wake Quinn up.' Her dog wasn't that smart, so she had just pointed to the bedroom door and jumped up and down a little excitedly, saying his name over and over. Apparently, he got the message, as Quinn was now awake.

"Breakfast, Quinn?"

Quinn was probably too sleepy to notice that Rachel had completely ignored her question.

"Um, I'll just have leftover pizza."

Rachel turned around to glare at her. Quinn faltered.

"And…Lucky Charms?"

"Quinn Fabray! You can't start out your day with that disgusting food! Here, I'll add to my vegan scramble. Do you like onions?"

Quinn scrunched up her nose, and Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Use your words, Quinn." Rachel said, only half-joking.

Hazel eyes met Rachel's, even as Quinn's hands set to work playing with the keys on the counter. "No, I don't like onions. Or peppers…And I'm allergic to walnuts. Um, not that you'd put those in a scramble, but, for future…reference."

Rachel smiled at Quinn, pleased with that response. She turned back to the counter and listened as the jangling of the keys stopped. She looked over her shoulder and winked at Quinn, whose ears turned crimson, and then resumed her singing of _Wham_'s Wake Me up before You Go-Go.

Unfortunately, Rachel got halfway through the second line before her voice cracked on the "brain." She froze and shut her mouth at once. Immediately, she turned around and looked at Quinn, who watched her intently. She obviously did not know the severity of the situation. Seriously, her voice _cracked_.

Rachel spoke in a whisper, so as to not damage it any further than the utterly disastrous state it was in now. "It'll be okay. It's just a little tickle. I don't need to see a doctor. Opening night's still two weeks away and I'm not even getting sick. I'll just take it easy at rehearsals today and tomorrow, and everything will be fine."

Quinn looked a little nervous now, watching Rachel carefully. She nodded quietly along. Rachel spun back around when she heard the scramble sizzling, took it off the burner, and split it onto two plates.

She put one in front of Quinn. "Thank you." Quinn said softly.

Rachel didn't even try to whisper this time. She mouthed the words "you're welcome," then dug into her own breakfast as Quinn watched. Rachel's dads and friends and roommates had always told her she went a little psychotic when she got sick, so Rachel figured the best thing to do right now was ignore any possible problems. Positive thinking was the way to go!

When it came time to leave for rehearsals, Rachel gathered her stuff together, and stood next to Quinn, glancing around the apartment for anything she might have forgotten. She turned to say, or mouth, goodbye to Quinn, when the blonde surprised her with a hug. Rachel was caught off balance, and Quinn was too, by the impulsive gesture, and Rachel had only just wrapped her arms around the woman when Quinn pulled away. She was bright red and her eyes were darting around the room. She looked like she couldn't believe she did that.

"Have a good rehearsal." Quinn murmured.

Rachel smiled warmly at her. "Have a good day at work." She whispered. "I'll text you later."

Quinn nodded and sat back down, playing with her keys again. Rachel watched her; then grabbed her lemon and honey tea, and swept out the door. Positive thinking, Rachel. You will not get sick.

~oooooooooo~

Of course, the next day Rachel got sent home from rehearsals early by her director. It's not like she didn't expect it, when it felt like her lungs were drowning and she had poured acid down her throat. For the first time since Quinn started joining her, she couldn't get to sleep last night. This is why she left an hour early for work, before Quinn was even awake, hoping the fresh air might help. Unfortunately, fucking Siri lied to her again and she only ended up freezing her ass off.

So, she now sat helplessly on the kitchen floor. She had abandoned the couch after repeatedly getting up for tissues and water. Now, Rachel was just too tired to move. The floor felt nice; cool on her legs. She heard the front door open and close. Quinn would probably be surprised to find her home so early, so she let out a little whine to let the woman know she was present.

Quinn appeared in the kitchen doorway a moment later. She looked amused, and then concerned when she realized the state Rachel was in. Rachel just looked up at her through bleary eyes, pouting miserably.

"They sent me home." She muttered thickly, tilting her head back so it leaned against the dishwasher. Barnaby sat next to her; he actually looked a little sympathetic. Rachel would've been pleased that he was being so good, if she wasn't convinced she was dying.

Quinn looked like she had no idea what to do, but her hazel eyes looked very worried. She tapped her fingers on her pants a few times before stepping forward hesitantly and kneeling down in front of Rachel.

"Why are you sitting on the floor? In the kitchen?"

"I don't know!" Rachel whined out pitifully. Quinn winced.

"Um…" Quinn thought for a moment, and then shifted closer. "Let's get you-I mean, can I-can I put you on the couch?"

Rachel nodded and Quinn helped her up carefully. Apparently she dislodged the fluid she had been keeping still, like a swamp in her lungs, and Rachel dissolved into a coughing fit. Quinn just rubbed her back cautiously until it stopped, and supported Rachel enough to get to the couch. Rachel watched as Quinn straightened and bit her lip; her eyes darted around the apartment. She was tapping her pants again.

"You're okay Quinn." Rachel husked out. She watched the fingers stop moving, but was too tired and uncomfortable to be confused when Quinn spun on her heel and walked away. Rachel sighed, or tried to. She ended up making a garbling noise and then wiping her arm across her red nose.

Suddenly a blanket billowed up around her. She registered that it was fleecy and warm, and it had green giraffes on it, and she smiled briefly. A minute later Quinn set a mug of something steaming on the coffee table, along with a box of tissues and a coloring book with crayons. Rachel tried to raise her eyebrow, and Quinn noticed and flushed.

"I like to color when I'm sick." She said simply, before scurrying away again. Rachel chuckled, and then realized it was the most painful thing she had ever experienced, and stopped abruptly. Quinn returned again and sat on the coffee table in front of Rachel.

She held up a movie that wasn't Rachel's, _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang_, and gave her a small smile.

"Um, you've probably seen it. But it's about an awesome flying car and it's this really cool adventure…And there's a big fluffy dog in it…And Dick van Dyke."

Rachel gave the best smile she could muster. Of course she had seen it, she was Rachel Berry and it was a _musical_. It was for the same reason she nodded enthusiastically when Quinn gestured to the DVD player.

Then Quinn held up her bear, bashfully and biting her bottom lip, her ears turning pink. Rachel held out her arms weakly, pouting up at the other woman.

"Pooh Bear." She whined roughly. Quinn smiled and let Rachel have her bear. Rachel hugged him close to her chest and snuggled under the blankets. She closed her eyes when Quinn hesitantly reached out a hand and brushed dark hair off her forehead. The last time someone had taken care of her when she was sick, was a few years ago, and it was Noah…And it really wasn't "taken care of," as much as "came over to raid her fridge and make sure she hadn't died."

Quinn settled at the opposite end of the couch, and Rachel automatically settled her feet on the other woman's lap. She wiggled them in protest as Quinn started drumming along them with her fingers. Barnaby laid down in front of the couch; Rachel would have expected him to be up in Quinn's lap, but apparently he decided to be _loyal_ today. For once.

About ten minutes in, Rachel fell asleep, face buried in Quinn's bear. She woke up a few hours later to find that ohmygod it was so fucking hot in there. She whined absently and threw the blanket on the floor. Quinn, who Rachel realized was still present, didn't say anything; just picked up the blanket and folded it onto the coffee table.

"You managed to get some sleep." Quinn offered quietly.

"I don't need sleep, I need my voice." She mumbled. God, she had turned into an irrational child. "Turn the TV off." She moaned. Rachel could hear the Chitty Chitty Bang Bang song in the background, and if that wasn't something that got into your head and drove you to the brink of insanity, well, nothing would.

Quinn complied. Rachel's eyes were closed, so she couldn't see Quinn, but the music stopped.

"Do you want to go to bed?" she heard a small voice ask, and she nodded dully in reply, but made no move to stand.

"Can I-is it okay if I carry you?"

Again, Rachel nodded. She clutched Pooh Bear tighter as she felt arms under her knees and her back, and then turned into the gummy bear-scented warmth that was Quinn. Quinn settled her down in bed, with medicine and cough drops and tissues, and then hovered unsurely near the doorway.

"Um, goodnight Rachel." She said quietly.

Rachel furrowed her brow, face pressed into her pillow. She really had no idea what was going on in her delirious state and, ohmygod, she was freezing.

"Where are you going?" she reached an arm out and flailed it around a little before dropping it in exhaustion. "You sleep here." Rachel mumbled.

It was completely silent for a minute, and then Rachel heard some rustling about before the lights went out and the other side of the bed dipped. She could hear Quinn fidgeting around with her hands, little tapping sounds, nails clicking.

"Quinn." Rachel breathed out and rolled over. Dear God she was _so cold_. She wanted that giraffe blanket back. It made her feel happy. Instead, Rachel deliriously curled herself up into Quinn's front, clutching the t-shirt and hoping for warmth.

She felt Quinn stiffen, and it took at least five minutes of just lying there, but finally Quinn's arms circled around Rachel and she was _warm_ again. Quinn pulled her a little closer, and Rachel was able to drop off, aware that her breathing sounded like a drowning bulldozer, but not caring, because Quinn smelled sweet like gummy worms.

Rachel woke up the next morning, well, early afternoon, in an empty bed. She determined this by waving her arm around and waiting for it to collide with something; it did not, but a noise from the doorway caught her attention. Rachel lifted her head up, and saw a figure in the doorway; her eyes were so blurry, it could be a fucking sea monster for all she knew. But the sea monster spoke.

"I made you a fruit bowl." Quinn said softly, before lifting up her chin and stepping forward. "You need to eat it. Now…Please."

Rachel sat up and rubbed her eyes, and registered that, though her nose was still runny, her sore throat was gone. She focused on Quinn, who stood next to the bed, bowl held in an outstretched hand, mouth slightly open and waiting for a reaction.

Rachel slowly smiled and took the fruit. "Thank you, Quinn." Quinn sighed in relief.

"Do you feel better?" Hazel eyes searched her face, and Quinn reached a hand out, only stiltedly halting once in midair, to sort of tame Rachel's bedhead.

"I do. Still a little…runny." Rachel glanced up as Quinn took her hand away. "What did _you_ have for breakfast?"

Quinn's eyes dropped to the ground. "Um,"

Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"I made you some sugar cookies to cheer you up, so I had…"

"You had twelve cookies for breakfast." Rachel stated plainly, trying to hide her smile with a massive piece of melon.

"No!" Quinn proclaimed, bright eyes meeting Rachel's. "I saved them for you. I had…the leftover dough…" she trailed off at the end with a frown.

"Oh my God, Quinn! You can't have a pile of cookie dough for breakfast! That's ridiculous!"

"I like it." Quinn said with a small smile. "It's better than the cookies themselves."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "It'll make you sick. Then I'll be the one giving you my three-legged Fuzzy to sleep with and you'll turn into Barnaby's favorite again. And I don't deal with vomit well; I start a chain reaction."

Quinn looked suitably chastised as she rocked back and forth on her heels, snapping the rubber band on her wrist.

Rachel beckoned her closer with a warm smile. "Now, help me finish this fruit, 'cause you put, like, nine melons in here, and I can't eat it by myself."

Rachel could eat melon by herself all day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 5: My Bears**

By the time opening night rolled around, Rachel was back in top form, only slighter crazier than usual because, well, dear God, it was _opening night_. She paced around her dressing room waiting for her friends to meet her, sure that she was suffering some sort of health problem. Cardiac arrest? Suffocation? Sudden onset epilepsy? Rachel swirled around when the door opened, watching as Kurt froze and stared at her. God, she must look like a maniac.

"Keep moving Hummel." A voice behind him said. "It's hot as ass in this hallway."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but stepped into the room. "Wow, that's wonderful, Santana."

Brittany and Santana followed him into the room, and Rachel stopped pacing long enough to greet them with a nervous smile.

"So, have you forgotten your lines yet?" Santana asked. She looked bored, and started rummaging through all the crap on Rachel's dresser.

"Oh my God, Santana!" Kurt exclaimed. "You don't ask her that right before a show!"

"Well, hopefully the answer's no." Santana said distractedly, pocketing one of Rachel's nail polishes and opening her drawers.

"I am fully prepared for this, thank you very much Santana. I've been preparing for twenty-four years, actually. And it's perfectly healthy to be filled with nervous energy before a show." Rachel chose not to mention how she had been diagnosing herself with farfetched medical disorders a few minutes ago.

Santana studied her with something like pride in her eyes, heavily disguised and hidden pride, or alcohol intoxication, then went back to stealing her stuff.

Kurt took one of Rachel's hands in his. "You're a bagel on a plate full of onion rolls, Rachel. You were born for this, and we're proud of you, and you'll be amazing. Oh, and I'm illegally filming it on Puck's crappy camera because Mercedes is threatening me with physical violence."

Rachel pulled him into a hug. "Thanks Kurt." She let go as the door opened again and Quinn walked in hesitantly with her hands in her coat pockets. She smiled when she saw Rachel. Rachel started to walk over to her.

"Hey, it's Quinn!" Brittany exclaimed, beating Rachel and bounding to a halt in front of Quinn. She didn't try to touch her, just stood there with a bright smile on her face and warm blue eyes.

"Hi, Brittany." Quinn said, lips quirked up slightly.

"How are you?" Brittany asked.

Rachel almost laughed. She had never heard Brittany ask that before in her life; they were the sort of boring pleasantries Brittany usually just bounded right over. Rachel glanced at Kurt, who looked a little unnerved. Santana, pockets now weighed down with Rachel's belongings, just studied the two blondes with a smile. Rachel could see Quinn's fingers moving in her pockets.

"Um, I'm fine. How about you?"

"I'm great! But I have to go now 'cause San said we could get churros if I could eat mine before the show starts. So, bye Quinn! Bye Rachel!"

Brittany grabbed Santana's hand and skipped out the door. Kurt plopped down on the couch and Rachel made her way over to Quinn, who pulled her into a hug as soon as she was close enough.

"Thanks for coming." She said when they pulled apart.

Quinn smiled. "Of course. I would've been here earlier but Barnaby, um, chewed the shoes I wanted to wear…So, I had to change my dress…"

"Well, you look wonderful." Rachel said, grinning as Quinn flushed and looked down at her feet. "Will you be okay here? I mean, are you comfortable, in the audience?" she asked, slightly quieter.

Kurt wasn't paying attention. He was messing around with a video camera that looked like it hadn't been used since 1992.

Quinn's ears turned pink to match her face. She nodded shyly. "I'll be fine. You'll be amazing Rach, and I'll just focus on your voice." Rachel searched her face for a moment for any signs that Quinn wasn't fine. She grinned when hazel eyes met hers, and turned to Kurt clapping her hands.

"Okay, I have twenty minutes guys! Kurt, if you'll escort m'lady out to your seats, I'll see you all after the show. Dinner, right?"

Kurt nodded as he stood up. "Go be a star, Rachel." He said, offering Quinn his arm with a warm smile. Quinn took it and gave Rachel a small wave before the two left the dressing room. Rachel resumed her pacing and counted down the minutes to showtime.

~oooooooooo~

The show went flawlessly, with the only disruption coming from a drunk woman in the audience who seemed to be under the impression that she was watching The Little Mermaid. Rachel was proud of herself, and her cast, of course. She was legitimately worried that there was too much adrenaline coursing through her as they bowed at the curtain call, and she'd pass out into the orchestra. At that moment she'd found her friends in the audience, clapping wildly. Puck was wolf-whistling; Santana was trying to make it seem like she wasn't bawling her eyes out; Quinn just looked so _proud._

Quinn still looked proud as they settled into a booth at some fancy restaurant that Kurt was paying for, whose name nobody could pronounce. Rachel didn't care. She'd eat freaking rose petals if they were put on her plate right now. It was a crowded restaurant, and it only got louder as it filled with more people.

"Berry, you have a fucking price tag on your dress." Santana stated calmly while perusing her menu. Puck snorted when he caught sight of it.

"Oh my God." Rachel whined, looking over her shoulder and carefully pulling the tag off. _Carefully_, because she'd pulled a tag off once and had to walk home with a semi-pornographic gaping hole in the back of her dress. "You guys could've told me sooner."

Santana scoffed. "You're lucky I told you now." She muttered.

Rachel sighed. She really couldn't understand half the menu; she'd probably end up with four bites of food surrounded by nine pounds of decoration.

"What are you guys getting?" Rachel asked the table at large.

"Cordon Bleu." Kurt replied instantly. "Filled with ham and paprika."

Puck glanced at him and nodded his head. "Yep, I'm gonna go with that too."

"Pork steak with walnuts and brie au gratin." Santana said. "I think. Unless this means something like, fried pig hooves or something."

"Hmmm." Rachel said, trying to ignore that image. "What about you Quinn?"

Quinn glanced up from her menu. "Um, I'm getting grilled cheese."

"Seriously, blondie? We're in this restaurant built for the fucking kings and you go for grilled cheese?" Santana remarked incredulously. Rachel had to admit grilled cheese sounded better than the fried pig hooves Santana had probably accidentally ordered.

Quinn frowned and focused her eyes back on her menu. "I don't really like any of this." She said quietly. "I can change it, I'll get-"

"No." Rachel interrupted, taking Quinn's menu and folding it in half. "You get what you want Quinn. We'll all probably be wishing we had ordered off the kid's menu as well."

Quinn nodded with her eyes still fixed to the table. Rachel ordered tortellini with spinach ricotta, and when the food came, everybody was pleased to find that they had interpreted the menu correctly. The sauce on Brittany and Santana's food almost made Brittany vomit, but, whatever. She scraped most of it off and it was fine. It wasn't pig hooves.

Quinn started playing with her silverware about halfway through the meal. Flipping the spoon up and down with her fingers and bouncing her knees. It was getting very loud in the restaurant.

"Quinn." Rachel said quietly, putting her hand over the spoon so Quinn couldn't reach it. Quinn froze and kept chewing her sandwich, eyes focused on Rachel's hand.

"Quinn, you're okay." Rachel took Quinn's free hand to prevent it playing with the cutlery anymore. She smiled softly when Quinn met her eyes, and winked as she stuck the spoon next to Kurt and out of Quinn's reach.

"So, Quinn," Puck started loudly, watching the two with a smirk, "Rachel was pretty hot on that stage tonight, huh?"

Kurt choked on his food and Brittany thumped him on the back. Quinn flushed immediately, but smiled and looked at Rachel.

"She was amazing."

Puck nodded like he was expecting her to continue, or act out some sort of fantasy. Rachel was watching him suspiciously.

Surprisingly, Quinn did continue. "I don't think I've ever heard a voice like yours, Rachel. It's so…it's like-it makes me feel happy inside."

Now it was Rachel's turn to blush. Puck was still grinning like a fucking fool.

"I know you went to Tisch, but, um, you sang in high school too right?"

Rachel was still trying to return her face to its normal color, so Brittany answered for her.

"Hell yeah she did! She was the captain of our glee club. We won Nationals senior year, which, I think was because of my dancing, but I guess Rach did a good job singing too."

Santana nodded along sagely.

"Oh God Brittany, you're giving me high school flashbacks." Kurt rubbed his temples. "You still talk to Finn, right Rachel?"

Rachel nodded. Puck caught the confusion on Quinn's face. "Kurt's stepbrother. My best friend. Her ex." He explained succinctly. Quinn frowned.

"I am grateful for everything that happened in high school. I overcame those obstacles and am now starring in a Funny Girl revival on Broadway." Rachel emphasized her point by waving her hands around randomly. She was still a little high on excitement. "I left the bullies behind and I am exactly where I want to be." She smiled at Quinn and punctuated her sentence by forcefully setting her napkin down on the table.

"You were bullied?" Quinn asked. She looked distraught. Rachel bit her lip and glanced at Santana. "Before glee, I didn't have a lot of friends, and I was sort of an easy target, you know. But, people came to their senses, realized I would be a massive star someday, and that they would be lucky if they got to wash my dog. I enjoyed the last couple years of high school. Oh yeah, and Barnaby needs a bath."

Rachel nudged Quinn in the shoulder reassuringly, though the blonde still looked a little sad. "Can I buy you an ice cream?" Quinn asked.

Rachel faltered. That was random. Then she beamed because, you know, who could say no to ice cream. Quinn brightened when Rachel nodded and finished her grilled cheese happily.

After dinner, Rachel stood off to the side of the ice cream cart with Santana, while everybody else bought their cones. Santana was jingling around Rachel's stolen nail polishes in her coat pockets, humming nonchalantly.

"So, you know that girl likes you right?"

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Well I'd hope so, seeing as she's my roommate."

Santana laughed. "No, Berry. That girl looks at you like you're a fucking goddess, when she's not cowering away like a weirdo."

"Hey!" Rachel glared and shoved Santana off the curb. Santana held up her hands in defense. For a split second, Rachel considered pushing her in the way of a guy on his bike, who looked like he was about plow through the crowd anyway.

"Geez!" Santana regained her balance. "I'm joking. Simmer down. She…"

Rachel figured Santana would say something like, "is nice," or "is pretty."

"…looks like she tastes like cotton candy."

Okay, the guy on the bike was almost here. Rachel got ready to shove Santana into his path.

"No, no, no. Like, sweet, like you said. Too nice. Sugary." Santana backed away from Rachel as she explained herself.

"How can you be _too_ nice?" Rachel muttered.

Santana just smirked, now safely a few yards away from the bike lane. "She's perfect for you Berry. Just make sure you tell me when you finally find out how she _really_ tastes. Okay?"

Rachel flushed and tripped on the curb as Santana skipped away to get her massive, gumball-topped ice cream from Brittany. Quinn came up and handed Rachel a strawberry cone with a small smile. Rachel couldn't remember the last time anyone had bought her ice cream. She took Quinn's free hand to prevent it from picking the hem of her sleeve, and joined the rest of their friends for the walk home.

~oooooooooo~

The next weekend, Sunday morning found Rachel rolling around on a giant hollow ball in her living room. She had told herself she would do some yoga, but found that it was more fun to bounce around like a four-year old. She was trying to balance on the ball, on her hands and knees, like a seal, when Quinn emerged from the bedroom they basically shared.

She snorted as soon as she caught sight of Rachel and covered her nose abruptly. Rachel was startled, lost her balance, rolled off the ball, and sent her foot into the wall with so much force she was surprised it didn't make a hole. She lay on the floor with a sort of shocked smile, listening to Quinn laughing from the kitchen. Finally Quinn emerged with a cup of dry Sugar Puffs and a glass of chocolate milk. She sat down on the ball next to Rachel.

"Are you okay?" Rachel narrowed her eyes, but smiled. It hadn't taken her too long to re-gather her wits. Quinn didn't look like she was overly concerned, seeing as she was trying to contain her grin.

Rachel nodded and rubbed her foot.

"Because you almost demolished our wall."

Rachel scoffed. "I didn't almost demolish our wall, Quinn. I tapped it…a little roughly."

"With the force of a wrecking ball."

Rachel sat up and looked at Quinn with an exaggerated annoyed face. She watched Quinn fill her cheeks with Sugar Puffs like a hamster.

"You're chatty this morning."

Quinn smiled shyly and shrugged, eyes darting around the room. She gestured to the second ball that Rachel had been planning on using, along with the first one, to roll herself across the living room like a medieval machine. Really, when she had woken up, in the back of her mind she knew that no yoga would actually be done today.

"Can I try?" Quinn asked.

"By all means," Rachel waved her arms around. "Don't hurt yourself. And don't put a hole in the wall. And don't-"

"Geez, speak for yourself. I'm not as clumsy as you." Quinn said distractedly, draping her front over the ball and rolling around a little. She was still funneling cereal into her mouth, now at such a ridiculous angle that Rachel believed it deserved an award.

Rachel raised her eyebrows and laughed shortly. She liked this Quinn. Open Quinn. "Okay, you're the one who tripped over Barnaby yesterday and nearly destroyed our coffee table in the process."

Quinn ignored her, and called Barnaby over to them instead. He bounded across the living room happily, snuffling around Quinn's face until she gave him a Sugar Puff. Rachel scrunched up her nose.

"Oh, _and_ last week you snuck out of bed in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, stubbed your toe on the tub, and pulled my whole shower curtain down! Quinn, there were a few seconds where I truly believed you were being murdered."

Rachel was being completely serious. She had flashbacks to _Psycho_ all night long. Quinn was one of the clumsiest people she had ever met.

"Okay, I'm clumsy." Quinn was on her back on the ball now, trying to balance with none of her limbs touching the floor. Rachel knew this was an awesome idea. "But you-"

And there she goes, Rachel thought. Quinn slid backwards off the ball, flung her Sugar Puffs all over the room, and slammed her head into the wall with a loud thump. Rachel gasped, but then Quinn started laughing, and Rachel's worry changed to amusement. Hopefully no neurological trauma had been suffered. If it had, well, it was probably worth it.

Then Rachel found she couldn't contain herself. Quinn's laugh was loud and free and melodic, and the blonde was sort of clutching her head, which, okay maybe she should check that out, but it was just Quinn being Quinn. And Rachel loved it. She laughed along, until Barnaby started eating the cereal scattered around the room and Rachel had to intervene before he made himself sick and vomited in her shoes.

"Quinn." She tried to sound scolding, but just came off as breathless from laughing too much. "Pick up your damn cereal. Stop teaching my dog your terrible eating habits."

Quinn sat up and looked around, face bright red. Her smile faded at the sight of the mess. "Oh…no. Sorry."

Rachel watched her start to move around and pick up the cereal bit by bit. Talk about fucking tedious. Rachel grimaced as Quinn put a handful of the floor-tainted cereal back in the box. The cereal that had been on the floor. For longer than ten seconds. And then clutched in Quinn's hands. Back into the damn box. The box with a bear in a blue hat on it.

"Why do you like bears, Quinn?" Rachel asked absently, gathering up the Sugar Puffs closest to her.

Quinn wiped her hands on her sleep shorts and disappeared behind the couch. "Um, I don't know." Quinn's disembodied voice said hesitantly. "They're-they look fluffy, you know. Like you could-you could cuddle them. Or something."

Rachel smiled. She tried not to picture Quinn being mauled by a grizzly bear after trying to give it a hug.

"You're like a bear, Quinn." She remarked. Rachel was too lazy to get up right now, so she just discreetly fed her small handful of Sugar Puffs to Barnaby, keeping her eyes on the couch the whole time.

Quinn's head popped up a moment later, followed by her body. Her nose was scrunched in confusion.

Rachel decided to elaborate. Apparently telling somebody they were like a bear wasn't totally clear-cut in its meaning.

"You're quiet. And clumsy. _Obviously_." Rachel stared pointedly at Quinn as the blonde sat on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. Quinn flushed. "I mean, bears aren't clumsy, but, you know, they could knock you out with a paw or something, right?"

Rachel had no idea. She wasn't a fucking zoologist, man. "Plus, you're fluffy, solitary, you know, bear things."

Quinn just stared at her. "I'm fluffy?"

Rachel chuckled, rolling her back against the giant ball behind her. "Yes."

Quinn smiled and drifted off into thought for a moment. Rachel watched with interest.

"Well, then you're a bear too." Quinn finally said. God, what had Rachel started. No, what had the fucking Sugar Puffs started.

"Bears can be loud sometimes, and…assertive, you know. I think they roar, do they roar?" Quinn looked at Rachel curiously. Rachel gave her an exaggerated WTF face; she didn't know if bears fucking roared.

Quinn shrugged and continued on happily. "They can be pesky, you know, like 'chase you through the woods 'till you die' sort of thing."

Rachel snorted and Quinn smiled. Rachel did have the persistence to chase somebody through the woods until they died.

"And you're fluffy sometimes, when you don't brush your hair. Especially in the morning. And you have big brown eyes. And, I don't know, Pooh Bear sings sometimes. And we have good bear hugs."

Rachel watched with a smile as Quinn rambled on, blush building furiously, then tackled the woman in a bear hug when she finished. "I'll call you Big Bear from now on." She proclaimed, pulling back and ruffling Quinn's hair. Rachel was only half-joking. She really stuck to nicknames; Santana had been known as "skunk" for three years in college.

Quinn grinned and ducked her head before she met Rachel's eyes.

"Then you're Little Bear." Quinn said logically. Shit, what had Rachel done. Fucking nicknames.

She couldn't deny Quinn's excited face, though. Goddamned Sugar Puffs. She smiled at Quinn and nodded agreeably.

"Now," Rachel said, trying to look serious, "Pick up the rest of your Puffs big bear or we'll get ants."

Quinn complied and Rachel helped. They threw them in the garbage this time, like the "responsible adults" they were. Quinn then pulled Rachel back on the balls and started a contest to see who could bounce higher. They had to call Puck when Quinn put a hole in the drywall with her elbow, but it was totally worth it.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks so much to everyone taking the time to read and review. Here we'll learn a little teeny bit about Quinn, but really, we're just scratching the surface. More to come.

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 6: This Could Be the Real World Now**

Rachel had no idea when Fruit-by-the Foot got so _short_. When she was a kid they used to go on forever, like, she could tie it into belts and bows and eat it throughout the day. Sure, maybe some people made fun of her for it, but it was massive strips of manufactured fruity goodness from the freaking gods, and she loved it. Right now, she was stealing some from Quinn's stash, because it was either that for lunch, or four-day-old Chinese that she was pretty sure Barnaby had gotten into. She startled as her phone rang, dropping her ball of Fruit-by-the-Foot on the floor. Holy shit. Could Quinn tell she was stealing her disgusting food?

"Hello?" Rachel said apprehensively, glancing around for hidden cameras.

"Hi, is this Rachel Berry?" A guy asked, sounding worried.

"Yes, this is Rachel." She replied, throwing her snack in the trash and looking for something else. God, Quinn had four freaking boxes of Hostess Cupcakes. This was not acceptable. Rachel contemplated just throwing them all out.

"My name is Barry. I work with your friend Quinn. Uh, she has you listed as her emergency contact, and she's sort of having a problem right now."

Rachel processed that for half a second, her eyes still fixed on the Cupcakes. "What? What's wrong? Is she okay? Did something bite her?"

Rachel's first thought was, 'ohmygod she got rabies from a feral puppy and is foaming at the mouth.' She was gathering up her stuff before the guy had even answered.

"No, physically she's fine. She's having, like, a panic attack or something…Like a really bad one. Is there, I don't know, is there something wrong with her?" Barry asked hesitantly.

Rachel was about to blurt out a confident 'No!' But she realized she really had no idea. "I'm on my way." She told him instead, rushing out the door, and barely shutting it in time to stop Barnaby from following.

Two blocks away, she realized she was in sleep shorts and a six-year -old t-shirt.

Rachel strode into the office area and right up to the woman sitting at the desk. "Hi, I'm Rachel." She said quickly, looking around for any sign of her friend or loose, raging animals.

"Oh, Rachel, you can come with me." The woman stood up and led her through some double doors, through a room with several kennels, and into a smaller room with a fridge and a table. A tall guy, who must be Barry, was hovering near the door. He looked relieved to see her.

Rachel scanned the room and spotted Quinn sitting on the floor against the far wall, knees pulled up to her chest, hands over her ears. She couldn't see Quinn's face, and she strode quickly over to kneel down in front of her. Barry and the receptionist watched from the doorway.

"Quinn." Rachel said softly. She could hear Quinn breathing rapidly into her knees, her toes tapping up and down randomly. Quinn didn't respond, probably because she couldn't hear her.

"Hey." Rachel tried again, reaching out a hand and resting it lightly on Quinn's head. Quinn flinched and started rocking a little, definitely crying now. Rachel had no idea what to do.

"What happened?" Rachel turned around and asked Barry helplessly.

He shook his head. "I-I don't know, I wasn't there. There was this group of kids that came in on a field trip, and they got a little loud I guess, you know, and she just…came in here and hasn't moved…"

Quinn sounded like she was wheezing now. Rachel leaned forward and cautiously pried the woman's hands off her ears. Quinn buried her face deeper in her knees and rocked a little more violently.

"Quinn, honey, you need to breathe." Rachel pleaded. "You're okay, you're safe. There's no one else in the room." She gestured wildly with one of her arms for Barry and the receptionist to leave, without taking her eyes off the golden head in front of her.

"Quinn, please look at me." Rachel said gently. Quinn lifted her head until her eyes could focus on the fading words on Rachel's shirt. She was gasping for breath and tears were flowing freely down her cheeks.

Rachel moved closer so she was pressed up against Quinn's shins. She changed tactics, figuring if Quinn could talk, she could breathe.

"Look in my eyes, Quinn." Rachel coaxed. Quinn's eyes flickered to hers, red and nervous and frightened. Her body rocked back and forth every time she wheezed, and her hands ran along the tops of her knees anxiously.

Rachel stilled them and held them tightly. "Tell me about your favorite animal, Quinn. Mine's a lion. What's yours?"

Quinn whined and tried to pull her hands away, shaking her head around and scooting closer to the wall. Rachel was close to tears herself.

"No, no, honey. Listen to me, big bear. I know you like animals, and I want to know what your favorite is." Rachel rubbed her thumbs soothingly over Quinn's hands, waiting for a response.

Quinn stared hard at the floor, still rocking back and forth and fidgeting her legs around. Rachel watched tears drip onto the tile.

"Mm-I don't-mm…d-dogs." Quinn stuttered out between wheezes.

"Okay! Okay, good honey." Rachel squeezed Quinn's hands tighter. "What do you like about dogs?"

Quinn slowed her rocking and shut her eyes tightly to think. She whined again.

"You're okay." Rachel said softly. She removed one of her hands to ruffle the blonde hair; Quinn ducked her head.

"They-they're friendly…And-hap-happy."

Rachel's lips quirked up. "Yeah, they are. What about Barnaby? What tricks can he do?" No, she really didn't mean to sound so patronizing; she just wanted Quinn to smile.

Quinn let out a short, runny laugh. "Dance." Her wheezing eased off, and her eyes were shut tight to focus on breathing.

"That's right." Rachel smiled softly in relief. "And what did you feed Barnaby for breakfast this morning?"

Quinn didn't respond. She just kept rocking, eyes closed. Rachel reached out and gripped her chin, tilting it up and waiting until Quinn's eyes opened. She had stopped crying, and they were red and glassy. Rachel smiled encouragingly.

"Um, some-some of my Cheetos, and, um, d-dog food and syrup."

Rachel couldn't stop herself from scrunching up her face in surprise and disgust, because, WTF? Quinn gave her a small smile at the reaction. Rachel chose not to make a big deal of how Quinn was ruining her dog's diet right now. Yeah, there would be better times to deal with that issue.

She let go of Quinn's hands and cupped the woman's face, wiping the tears away with her thumbs. Quinn's eyes never left hers.

"Feel better?" she asked, searching those hazel eyes.

Quinn nodded and flushed; she tried to glance down at the floor but Rachel's hands were holding her head in place.

"Good." Rachel said a moment later. She pulled Quinn into a hug and breathed in the smell of Skittles. Quinn clung to her tightly.

"Don't wipe your snot on my shirt, big bear." Rachel muttered into blonde hair with a small smile.

Quinn snorted, the complete opposite of not wiping her snot on Rachel's shirt, and Rachel just rubbed her back reassuringly. Rachel pulled back and grabbed her hand.

"Come on. We're gonna get Barnaby and go for a walk."

Quinn looked so small and scared when she stood up, Rachel wanted to start crying all over again. She really had no idea what the hell just happened, but she knew her heart was racing and Quinn's eyes were still nervous, and a walk in the park would be exactly what they needed.

~ooooooooooo~

Quinn held Barnaby's leash as the dog surged on ahead, choking himself, but having the time of his life. They skirted around a pond, because Quinn claimed Barnaby wouldn't like the geese, while Rachel just smiled at her knowingly. Aside from that, Quinn hadn't spoken, and Rachel had no idea what to say. They brought a boomerang with them; God knows where Quinn got _that, _but, really when has a boomerang ever done what it was supposed to do?

Quinn let Barnaby off his leash and threw the boomerang. It dropped fifty yards away, and nobody looked surprised. Things turning around in midair and returning to you are just, well, that's just some sci-fi craziness, right. Barnaby was thrilled. Unfortunately, when he retrieved things, he didn't like to bring them back until they were destroyed, so Rachel and Quinn sat cross-legged in the grass watching the dog eat plastic.

Quinn was creating a mountain in front of her with the grass she pulled out of the ground. Rachel just sat and watched as the picking became more rapid; Quinn hunched over her pile a little further.

"I grew up in a foster home." Quinn blurted out of nowhere, so fast that Rachel it took Rachel several seconds to realize somebody had spoken.

Rachel looked at her. "What was that?"

Quinn took a breath and picked at the dirt now stuck to her hands. "I grew up…in a foster home." She said carefully.

Rachel nodded after a moment, gazing at Quinn's face, ready to listen to anything.

"It wasn't even…really a foster home. It's where you went if you didn't get a foster home...Like, nobody wanted you."

Rachel reached over and gently grabbed Quinn's hands, brushed the dirt off them, and held them still. Quinn finally made eye contact.

"My parents died when I was four, so…I spent six years there, b-before my aunt took me away."

"I'm sorry, Quinn." Rachel said softly, genuinely, squeezing the blonde's hands tighter.

Quinn bit her lip. "It was…so crowded. And loud. Just-just all the time. I was the youngest one, and…the other kids were kind of mean."

Rachel frowned as Quinn continued.

"I have these…panic attacks, where-where it feels like I'm back there. So…that's what…that was."

Rachel leaned closer. "So you got…overwhelmed?"

Quinn nodded, looking down at her hand in Rachel's. Rachel studied her for a moment.

"You're really quiet. I mean, not just now, every day. But...I guess it's not just shyness, right?"

Again, Quinn nodded.

"Have you ever seen a psychologist?" Okay, _maybe_ Rachel could have employed a bit more tact at the moment, but Quinn didn't seem to mind the question. They both watched Barnaby trot around with some other dog's blue tennis ball in his mouth. Little thief dog.

"Yeah. It didn't really…" Quinn sighed. "I don't like talking to people."

Rachel bit her lip as hazel eyes met her own again.

"They said Asperger's when I was a kid. But, that's not really…After-after graduating high school, they all say, like, my emotional health is stunted. "Quinn shrugged. "My aunt says I'm immature…Everybody else just says strange."

"You're not strange." Rachel said immediately. Quinn raised her eyebrows, lips quirked up slightly.

"I mean, you're…So you don't like people, whatever, you know. You're vibrant and innocent and happy, and we need more people like- OH SHIT, BARNABY, GET OUT OF THE WATER!"

Rachel sprung up and Quinn turned, startled to see their dog swimming around the pond full of geese. She snorted and followed Rachel to the water's edge. The edge of the _freezing_ cold pond full of people-attacking geese.

Rachel bent over with her hands on her knees. "Come on Barnaby! Come on boy!" she called out in a baby voice, clapping her hands together. "Come on B!"

Barnaby swam in the opposite direction. Quinn tried to muffle her laughter.

Rachel groaned and switched tactics. "Barnaby. Come! Come, now!" She yelled angrily. She turned to Quinn when she heard the other woman snort again.

"Quinn! Go in there and get him!"

Quinn's smile dropped. "Excuse me?" she asked incredulously.

Rachel huffed. "You've been the one turning him into this disobedient beast, Quinn. He's gonna get eaten! What about alligators and snakes…God, I've even heard of freshwater sharks!"

"I'm not diving into a thirty degree pond, Rachel. Your dog was crazy before I even got here…And these geese are getting ready to attack us, but I doubt this tiny pond in the middle of the city has man-eating animals in it."

Rachel turned and took a few steps away from the water. "Okay, let's walk away." She said methodically. "He doesn't like to be left alone, especially by you. Maybe he'll follow."

Quinn rolled her eyes at the implication that Barnaby favored her, but she complied. They went and sat on a bench a little further down the path.

Rachel turned to her, completely calm. "Anyway, I was saying we need more people like you in the world, and if you don't want an _actual_ therapist or something, maybe you could talk to me."

Quinn just stared at her. Rachel thought it was the most logical thing in the world to simply pick up the conversation where it had left off. She was unsure why Quinn started laughing.

"God. Rachel, little bear, you make it better. You really do."

Rachel grinned at Quinn's bright eyes. Sure, they'd lost a boomerang, stolen a tennis ball, and their dog would probably get eaten by a rare Central Park freshwater shark, but, yeah, this was totally a successful outing.

~oooooooooo~

This was a horrible idea. Seriously. Inviting your friends over for dinner should not make you feel like you're preparing for battle. Or mass chaos. Or mass murder. Rachel's friends inspired a lot of feelings in her, and when you throw Finn into the mix, well…This was a horrible idea. She ran through this thought process several times as she was setting the table, waiting for the doorbell to ring. So many things could go terribly awry.

She glanced into the living room and smiled. Quinn was focused on her game; apparently her Sims family kept dying because their oven caught on fire over and over again. Now Quinn was left with multiple tombstones in her kitchen that she could not move, so Rachel had taken one look at her dejected face and told her to rebuild the Sims house before their guests arrived.

The doorbell rang, and Rachel walked into the living room to lean over the back of the couch.

"Hey, you." She said, nudging Quinn's shoulder with her own. Quinn paused the game and looked at her with a nervous smile.

"You'll tell me if you're uncomfortable, right?" Rachel asked her. Quinn nodded, and then shook out her hair when Rachel ruffled it with a grin.

"Um, I'll get some drinks ready?" Quinn asked. Rachel nodded and moved to get the door, which now sounded like it was being beaten down with a medieval battering ram.

"Geez, Berry, we've been standing there for like four hours." Santana complained, bulldozing her way through the door and collapsing onto the sofa. Kurt and Brittany followed her, though they greeted Rachel with a little more civility, and a hug.

"Hi Rachel!" Finn proclaimed enthusiastically, wrapping her in up in his arms. Rachel chuckled and hugged him tightly.

"Hi Finn. Has Kurt been taking care of you?"

Finn pulled away and grinned easily as Puck slithered through the doorway between them.

"Oh yeah! His apartment is awesome. Except, his guest bed is like a concrete block, and his showerhead feels like it's shooting bullets at your back. But, his TV is huge, Rach! Have you seen it?"

Rachel nodded amusedly and seated Finn on one of the armchairs as Quinn emerged from the kitchen, biting her lip and watching her feet, and carrying _all_ the alcohol.

"Finn, this is Quinn. Quinn, Finn." Rachel introduced, waving her hands between them.

Finn grinned easily and held up his hand. "Hey Quinn."

Quinn opened her mouth, then closed it, and gave him a small smile, looking for the meaning of life in the drinks she was holding. Santana looked bored; Rachel knew she needed to alcoholize her soon.

"What did you bring us, Quinn?" Rachel asked enthusiastically, pulling Quinn to sit next to her on the couch. Quinn just put the tray on the coffee table so everyone could grab a beer or pour some wine. Rachel patted her leg reassuringly.

"So, Rachel, what's for dinner?" Puck asked eagerly, propping his feet on the coffee table and chugging his beer. Kurt watched him with thinly veiled disgust.

"Well, since Quinn and I would burn the building down if we attempted anything moderately complex, we went with spaghetti with tomato sauce and garlic bread." Rachel stated.

"…and peanut butter cookies." Quinn added quietly, sipping her milk.

Rachel smiled. "And amazing peanut butter cookies for dessert."

"Oh sweet," Finn said, "The only thing Kurt eats are these frozen Healthy Choice dinners that taste like shampoo."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "They only tasted like that last night, Finn, because you exploded yours in the microwave." Finn just shrugged.

Rachel wondered how that would make any kind of food taste like soap.

"We saw a dead body on the way here, Rach." Brittany declared conversationally. Rachel stared at her. She decided to wait for some more information, because, well, it's Brittany.

"It was a pigeon." Puck clarified, when Brittany just sat there with a smile on her face. "Yeah, we barely stopped Santana from Ziploc bagging it and bringing it to dinner."

"It would be a great specimen for my class." Santana told them, completely seriously. "I think I might go back and get it when we leave."

Rachel didn't know how to respond to these people. "Dinner should be ready now, guys, if you want to move to the dining room. I'll set it out in a minute." That was the best she could come up with.

By the time everybody was eating, the animal corpse talk had thankfully been dropped, and replaced with contemplation about the possible serial killers living across the hall from Puck's apartment.

"Dude, I'm telling you, it smells horrible. And I saw them take their laundry down last week, looked like it weighed two hundred pounds."

Finn listened with wide eyes. Kurt scoffed. "Yeah, _or_ they're just weak and unsanitary and haven't done their laundry for a month."

"_Or_, it was filled with rotting, chopped up body parts." Puck stated simply.

"Okay! That's enough of that!" Rachel declared, finding it hard to swallow her tomato sauce. Quinn was picking at the design in the tablecloth with her fingers, and Rachel tapped them discretely, glancing at her with a questioning eyebrow. Quinn put her hand in her lap.

Sure, Rachel enjoyed an engaging conversation about serial killer dismemberment as much as the next person, but, well…no, she didn't. At all. It was becoming a problem.

"So, Rach, do you have a girlfriend?" Finn asked brightly, trying to fit half his plate of spaghetti in his mouth at once.

Rachel shook her head, though Kurt spoke for her. "Not since the last one, what was her name, Rach? Something-"

"No, we're not talking about my ex-girlfriends tonight, Kurt, thank you very much." Rachel cut him off before he got carried away.

Santana was watching Quinn with a smirk. "How about blondie's?" she asked all too innocently.

Quinn's leg started bouncing, but she answered before Rachel could lunge across the table and stab Santana in the eye with her fork. It was in her hand. Ready. To. Go.

"I've never had a girlfriend." Quinn said quietly.

Everyone's jaws pretty much dropped. Puck recovered first. "So you're a newly converted gay."

Even Santana looked at him like 'what the fuck?' Brittany was busy feeding Barnaby massive pieces of her garlic bread under the table. Rachel had no idea how Puck managed to work the phrase "newly converted gay" into dinner conversation.

Quinn picked at the hem of her dress on her bouncing leg. "Um, no? I-I haven't had…a…boyfriend either…" she trailed off, flushing bright red.

"Well, that sucks, because you're, like, really pretty." Finn said simply, before gagging on his mouthful of food, and projecting sauce halfway across the table. Kurt and Santana flew out of their seats like they'd been scalded by lava.

Rachel was glad for the distraction. "Hey." She said quietly.

Quinn swallowed and kept looking down at her lap.

"Quinn, look at me."

Rachel gave her a gentle smile when Quinn met her eyes. "You're okay." She whispered, stilling the bouncing leg and the fidgety hands. Quinn nodded, though her ears were still pink.

"I'm getting more milk." Quinn said quietly.

Rachel thought for a moment. Was this a code? Did _I'm getting more milk _mean _I'm going to go break down in the kitchen by myself?_ She really wasn't sure after yesterday's whole fiasco.

"Do you need help?" Rachel asked.

Quinn raised an eyebrow and chuckled softly. "Pouring a glass of milk? Um, I think I can handle it…thanks, little bear."

Rachel turned back to the table at large, blushing lightly as Quinn patted her on the head on the way to the kitchen.

"Have you asked her out yet, Rach?" Finn asked as soon as Quinn was out of earshot.

Rachel looked incredulous. See, this is what happens when we invite these people over. She glared at Santana, who held up her hands innocently with a freaking huge smile on her face.

"Was not me. I fucking swear. You two give off some crazy vibes, Berry."

Rachel shook her head disbelievingly as Finn continued with his line of questioning. "Because, like, she was giving me some major death glare when you introduced us."

Kurt looked skeptical. He probably couldn't reconcile sweet Quinn with the phrase "major death glare." Rachel knew she was having the same problem.

"Less of a death glare," Kurt said, "more of a subtle, _always watch out for the quiet ones because they're the killers_ glare."

Rachel sighed. "Quinn doesn't glare." She said simply.

"But you do." Santana interjected. "I mean, you should've seen your eyes when Finn said she was pretty. Fucking flying saucer lasers."

Okay really. The conversation needed to just end right now. When you find yourself saying things like _fucking flying saucer lasers_, well, Rachel knew they were gone.

Puck frowned. "What do flying saucer laser eyes look like?"

Quinn walked back into the room just in time to hear that question. She sat down and glanced at Rachel questioningly. Rachel just rolled her eyes and shook her head, and then stole a sip of Quinn's milk, because alcohol was the last thing she needed with conversations like these flying about. Everybody left after peanut butter cookies, which Rachel forced Finn to take a bag of, if only to counteract Kurt's shampoo-tasting-food. It was only when she was curled up in bed later, next to Quinn and her stuffed bear, listening to the groaning of the pipes, that she wondered how on earth this woman had gone so long without a girlfriend or boyfriend. She was just so absolutely wonderful. Then she realized that Santana was absolutely right. About everything.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: So, the majority of you guys are expecting Rachel to make the first move. I just want you to know, this is exactly how the chapter was when I wrote it three weeks ago. Haven't changed a thing…

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 7: We Need Umbrellas on the Inside**

Rachel was just getting ready for her show the next day when her phone buzzed. She smiled when Quinn's name popped up.

Q: RACHEL

R: QUINN!

Q: ARE YOU BUSY RIGHT THIS SECOND?

R: WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME?

Q: THERE'S A BIRD IN OUR APARTMENT!

R: OH MY GOD QUINN, GET RID OF IT! D:

Q: I CAN'T CATCH IT, I DON'T LIKE BIRDS…

R: OKAY, stay in a different room or something Q, and don't let B eat it! I'm about to go on.

Q: :( GOOD LUCK. HURRY.

R: aww :D I'LL BE HOME SOON

Rachel didn't know what to expect as she trudged up the stairs in the apartment building. What if it was a fucking vulture? There could be a vulture in her apartment. Bald eagle. Chicken. Toucan. Goddamned emu. Quinn had not been specific enough. She squinted when she caught sight of two figures sitting in the hallway as she came out of the stairs. Quinn and Barnaby.

"Quinn! How long have you been out here?"

Quinn scrambled up and looked sheepish. "A few hours." She mumbled. "The bird was making me really nervous."

Rachel looked at the door apprehensively. "So, what kind of bird is it? Because I was picturing geese and seagulls and…" God, what was the plural of albatross? Albatri?

Quinn just stared at her and Rachel shook her head to clear her thoughts. Not the time for that, Rachel. Focus. She set her shoulders and put her hand on the knob. "You coming?"

Quinn swallowed and nodded slightly, one hand clinging tightly to the back of Rachel's coat, the other gripping Barnaby's leash. Rachel couldn't blame her; Barnaby would most likely want to catch and 'play with,' or 'accidentally kill' any live thing that might be in their apartment.

Rachel opened the door, stepped inside, and was dive-bombed by a pigeon. She shrieked and rushed through the apartment to the main bathroom, dragging Quinn and the dog along behind her. Quinn was holding her nose and blowing air out her ears as they locked the door behind them. "_Rachel_! That was-that was like sonar. Like-like a bat. I think you damaged my ears."

Rachel tried to calm her racing heart. Barnaby looked overjoyed at all this damn excitement. "I'm sorry." Rachel breathed out. She was much more focused on the wild fucking animal in her apartment than Quinn's temporary hearing loss. Crap. Crap. Crap. What to do. Rachel whipped out her phone to call Puck, who didn't answer, of course. She sighed and dialed Santana, yeah, oh God, as Quinn watched.

"Berry, you ask her out yet?"

"Shut up Santana!" Rachel hissed, glancing at Quinn, who was rubbing absentmindedly at her ears. Barnaby had gotten in the bathtub.

"Geez, what's up your ass?"

"There's a feral pigeon flying around our apartment."

There was silence for a moment, and then Santana burst out laughing.

"Leave a window open?" Santana choked out.

Rachel looked pointedly at Quinn. "Obviously _someone_ must have left a window open." Quinn flushed and stopped messing with her ears. "Come catch it for us."

Santana stopped laughing. "What am I, some avian expert to you? I'm not a freaking bird-catching zookeeper Berry. Do it yourself."

Rachel sighed. "Santana-"

"Oh, and get it on video please." Santana interrupted, before laughing again and hanging up.

Rachel and Quinn sat in silence for a minute; there was no sign that the bird was even out there anymore. Of course, that's what he wants you to think, Rachel. He's really hiding in your bed, ready to fly into your hair and peck your eyes out when you least expect it.

Rachel stepped up to Quinn and put both her hands over the other woman's ears. "Okay?" she asked.

Quinn nodded and ducked her head. "Yeah, um, just…ringing a little."

Rachel chuckled. "My voice can reach supernatural pitches. I mean, really, it's just ungodly." She stepped away from Quinn as the taller woman smiled, and then stuck her head out into the hallway. Rachel channeled her inner ninja, or Jackie Chan, or really any particularly agile Asian, and opened the closet door, stepping fully into the hallway to pull out a broom and a Swiffer Sweeper that she had never used in her life. She gave the broom to Quinn.

"Okay, I'm going to send B out there first. He'll scare the bird, or, you know, move it, so we know where it is. Then, we rush it with the brooms and make it go back out the window."

After it shits all over our furniture.

Well, this was a wonderful plan. Completely flawless.

Quinn nodded skeptically. Rachel grabbed a sock from the closet, made it into a ball, and tossed it out into the living area. Barnaby bounded out of the bathtub and around the corner, out of sight. Rachel heard the fluttering of wings and charged out with her Swiffer held high, Quinn right behind her. They really had no idea where the bird was, or what they were doing. God, there probably wasn't even a bird in there. Basically, they screamed as loud as they possibly could and flailed their weapons around randomly, shaking their heads so nothing could land on them.

Quinn seemed to have caught sight of the pigeon, as she was moving less spastically than Rachel. Then again, most people moved less spastically than Rachel. In everyday life. Rachel joined her anyway, and they managed to beat it back through the window.

"Don't hurt him! Don't hurt him! Get out!" Rachel screamed. "Make sure you don't hit him! Get the hell out the window bird! Wait, don't hurt him!"

Quinn dropped her broom and almost flung herself out the window in her haste to shut it. She collapsed against the wall of the living room breathing deeply. "Holy shit." She gasped out.

Rachel choked a laugh through the heart attack she was having. She had never heard Quinn swear. She went and sat next to the blonde, patting the choppy "I just got attacked by a fucking bird" hair to settle it down. Quinn looked at her and did the same for Rachel's.

"That was…" Rachel breathed out, unsure of where she was going with that.

"I'm never opening a window again." Quinn vowed. Rachel put her head on the other woman's shoulder. She definitely agreed. No more windows. No more…going outside. Yep, she'll just stay right here in this position forever, and that'll be totally fine. Barnaby agreed, as he sprawled himself over their legs, ball sock in his mouth, content smile on his doggy face.

And, God, bird shit on their coffee table.

~oooooooooo~

After Rachel's evening show the next day, she headed home with a massive bag of gummy worms and a copy of Paranormal Activity 2. So much for never watching it again. Apparently, Quinn had not seen it, and felt that she needed to be educated because her scary movie knowledge was severely lacking. Rachel was skeptical. Well, no, she was more than skeptical. This was a horrible idea; they'd both probably be terrified wrecks by the end of the night…but, that's what the candy was for. Gummy worms could make all problems disappear. Always.

"Quinn." Rachel called absently as she stepped into the _bird-free_ apartment. She would never take that fact for granted ever again.

Quinn walked out of the bedroom hallway and into the living room. Rachel glanced at her, tossing the gummy worms onto the coffee table and throwing her coat onto a hook by the door.

"Hey, how was your day?" Rachel inquired. She stopped messing around with all her stuff and looked at Quinn when the woman didn't respond.

Quinn looked nervous. Her eyes were fixed on Rachel's feet, and she held something behind her back as she shifted side to side. Rachel walked over to her slowly.

"Quinn?"

Quinn took a deep breath. "It was good…my day, it was good."

Rachel nodded slightly and watched Quinn open and close her mouth a few times. "Words, Quinn." She said with a half-smile, ducking her head to catch Quinn's eye.

Quinn rocked back on her heels. "I-I have a question. For you."

"Okay." Rachel said warmly. "Ask away."

"Um, but first…I got you something."

Rachel watched as Quinn pulled a stuffed lion out from behind her back. It was adorable, pale yellow with a huge, fluffy mane. Rachel grinned and took it from Quinn's slightly shaky hand. The blonde had turned crimson.

"Quinn! This is so cute! He looks like a four-legged version of Fuzzy!"

Quinn smiled shyly and flicked the rubber band on her wrist a few times. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Um, Fuzzy's in the closet all the time, so I thought he could use a…friend." Quinn shook her head like she couldn't believe she just said that. Rachel chuckled and ran her fingers through the lion's mane.

"I love him. I'll call him…Cuddles." She said. Rachel Berry's stuffed animals must have adorable names. She watched patiently as Quinn bit her lip and tried to find the right words for whatever she wanted to say. Rachel looked calm on the outside, but, you know, she's an _amazing_ actress. Purely fantastic. She really felt like she was having some sort of mental breakdown, from…excitement? Anxiety? Quinn looked like she was suffering the same thing. They could have their psychotic breaks together.

"Quinn. You're okay. Just ask me, big bear."

Quinn gave her an uneasy smile, and put her hands in her pockets. Then she locked hazel eyes with Rachel's brown, and licked her lips.

"Can I take you on a date?" she asked, so quietly that Rachel had to lean in to hear. Her heart leapt, and she tried to stop herself from grinning like a fool in case she was just delusional right now. Or Quinn was delusional. Or everybody was just dreaming and life was not real.

"You wanna go out with me?" Rachel clarified, trying to stop her face from doing whatever the hell it was trying to do right now.

Quinn, surprisingly, maintained eye contact as she gave a small nod, tapping her fuzzy sock-clad toes against the carpet.

Rachel allowed her face to transform, very slowly, so that she didn't look like a lunatic and scare Quinn away. Quinn's eyes were bright and hopeful as she saw Rachel's emerging smile.

"I would love to go on a date with you, Quinn." Rachel said, beaming and hugging Cuddles tightly to her.

Quinn grinned shyly. She also looked like she was trying to control her face, eyes darting over Rachel's. "Really?"

Rachel nodded emphatically. "Yes. My answer is yes."

Quinn let out a sort of half-laugh, half-sigh and abruptly pulled Rachel into a hug. Rachel chuckled and wrapped her arms around the taller woman, squishing Cuddles between them. Rachel could feel Quinn quivering, and rubbed up and her back to calm her down.

"Aw, honey. You were really nervous." Rachel murmured softly, smiling into Quinn's neck.

Quinn pulled back with a sheepish grin and a blush, and she shrugged. Rachel let the taller woman take her arm and drag her over to the couch. She watched as Quinn put the movie in and laughed as she plopped back on the couch and stuffed a handful of gummy worms into her mouth.

Rachel put her head on Quinn's shoulder and filled her own mouth with gummy worms. Maybe the fact that she felt like she was on top of the freaking world would counteract the damage this movie was about to inflict upon her.

~oooooooooo~

"Quinn, your feet are like blocks of ice."

Quinn pulled her legs further onto her own side of the bed. "Sorry." She mumbled. It was quiet for a few seconds. "Rachel?"

"Yeah." Rachel breathed out, eyes closed so that she wouldn't turn the shadows in her room into creepy stalker demon people.

"Can I put the bathroom light on?"

God, yes. Jesus, Lord almighty, a million times yes. Rachel smiled into her pillow. "Sure, Quinn…And grab some of my socks. Fluffy ones. Top drawer."

Quinn turned on the light and put on some socks, then climbed back under the covers and sighed. Rachel peeked her eyes open; she could just see Quinn's eyes in the dim light.

"Hey, Quinn."

Quinn hummed.

"Maybe we should try sleeping in different beds. I mean, I don't know what your…intentions…are, but…"Rachel watched as Quinn's brow furrowed. "Sorry, that was stupid. I meant, it would be a more…romantic date, if we didn't, you know, spend eight hours together every night." Rachel's face was on fire. She reached down to the body between hers and Quinn's, and ruffled Barnaby's ears, just for something to do.

"Okay." Quinn agreed softly. "I'll…sleep by myself tomorrow."

Rachel rolled over to face her. "For one night."

"One night." Quinn repeated.

Rachel smiled into the darkness. She tried not to imagine what it would look like with a night vision ghost/stalker/demon camera. "So, do you know where you're taking me?"

Quinn chuckled. "Yes. Um, it's not, like, fancy or anything…But, I think you'll like it."

"Tell me what you have planned." Rachel prodded Quinn in the shoulder until the other woman rolled onto her side to face her.

"No." Quinn grinned.

"Quinn." Rachel whined.

"Rachel."

Rachel huffed and rolled back onto her back. She watched Quinn out of the corner of her eye. "When, then?"

"Saturday…Um, afternoon."

Rachel lolled her head to the side to gaze at Quinn's amused expression. She could probably bully some information out of the woman, but she was too busy picturing demons standing over her sleeping body, preparing to kill her.

"Are your feet warm yet?" she asked instead. "You're like a reptile, Quinn."

Quinn snorted into the sheets. "No, I'm a bear." She said. "And yes, your socks fixed me."

"You and Barnaby are taking up, like, ninety-eight percent of the bed. I'm sliding off the edge, Quinn. I am the two percent, and you're forcing me over the edge."

As Rachel complained, she moved closer to Quinn, cuddling up into the other woman's warm pajamas. Good. Now if some paranormal force decided to fling her around the bedroom in the middle of the night, Quinn would be coming with her. They had a stuffed bear and lion between them. Quinn chuckled and patted Rachel's head.

"Last night, little bear. You should be cherishing it."

Rachel smiled. "Goodnight, Quinn."

Surprisingly, Paranormal Activity didn't invade Rachel's dreams. She fell asleep in Quinn's arms, and only woke up when Barnaby decided to sprawl himself over her face in the morning. Yeah, she'd miss her bed being so full, but, really, she had a date on Saturday.

~oooooooooo~

"You're fucking with me Berry."

"No I'm not! Really, she asked me out!" Rachel argued into her phone the next afternoon. She was lying on the living room floor with her feet propped up on the couch. God knows _why_. Arguing with Santana made her body do some weird things to attempt to escape.

"I don't believe you. She's like a goddamned bunny. There's no way she asked you out."

Rachel wondered how Quinn being "like a bunny" would stop her from asking Rachel out. She smiled up at the ceiling as she heard the front door open and close.

"Shut up, Santana. You can ask her yourself."

Rachel heard something smash on the other end of the line. Santana groaned in the distance. Quinn sat down cross-legged on the couch facing Rachel's feet and tapped her fingers up and down her shins.

"Santana? Were you just attacked? Should I call an ambulance? Is there a bird in your apartment?" Rachel rambled, wide-eyed.

The line crackled again before Santana spoke. "Jesus Christ. Next time you have a fucking bird in your apartment, Rachel, come over here and take Britt's cat, okay. It will kill anything it sets its goddamned laser death eyes on."

Rachel winced. She heard a cat yowling in the background.

"Anyway, yeah, put blondie on. I need to hear this shit from her."

Rachel held the phone up to Quinn and poked her in the ribs with her toes. "Quinn. Santana doesn't believe we're going on a date. Can you tell her?"

Quinn looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and Rachel nudged her in the side with her foot again.

"Just tell her you asked me out. If she's a bitch, just hang up. It's like a default setting for her." Rachel smiled when Quinn took the phone. She listened closely to Quinn's side of the conversation.

"Hello...Yeah."

Quinn frowned. "Hey, don't call her that." Rachel smiled to herself.

"Um, I gave her a stuffed lion…Cuddles…No it's not. Stop calling her that."

Quinn suddenly flushed, and then held the phone away from her ear for a minute before handing it back to Rachel.

"What did you say to her?" Rachel asked Santana suspiciously. Quinn was still bright red as she started playing with Rachel's toes.

"That's none of your business, Berry. But I do believe you now."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I _told_ you."

Santana obviously ignored her. "Rachel, be nice to her. She's sweet, and she probably doesn't know what she's doing." She said in a softer voice.

Rachel blushed; God, her eyes felt like they were welling up. One nice comment from Santana could alter the foundation she's built her life on. Jesus, it could probably shift tectonic plates. Just weird.

"Of course." Rachel said quietly, watching Quinn play with her toes like little piggies.

When Rachel hung up, she heaved herself off the floor and walked around to the back of the couch, mussing Quinn's hair on the way. Quinn just ducked her head and huffed. Rachel grinned.

"Where's B?" Quinn asked, glancing around the apartment. Rachel looked around too; Barnaby usually assaulted Quinn the minute she walked through the door. She frowned.

"Maybe he's sleeping." Rachel guessed.

"Hey, B! Barnaby!" Quinn called in the direction of the bedrooms. As she was standing up to go and look for herself, Barnaby came plodding into the living room. Slowly and dejectedly. Rachel was instantly worried.

She walked over and crouched down with Quinn in front of the dog.

"He's been kind of quiet over the last couple days." Quinn murmured, rubbing his ears fondly.

Rachel got up to check his food bowl in the kitchen, and holy mother of God it was _full_. It was fucking full. She had never seen Barnaby's bowl full for more than two seconds. And, what the hell was that? Cheetos? And dog food. Of course.

"He didn't eat his breakfast." Rachel said, returning to Quinn's side. Rachel wouldn't eat that shit either, but, you know, this wasn't about her. Quinn looked up at her worriedly.

"We should-we should take him to the vet, right? What if something's wrong with him?" Quinn's eyes were darting across Rachel's face. Rachel put a hand on the back of her neck to calm her down.

"He probably just has a tummy ache, Quinn. But, yeah, we can take him to the vet. Better safe than sorry."

Quinn nodded vigorously, and then rubbed Barnaby's fluffy golden belly while Rachel flitted around and gathered his papers and leash. Barnaby seemed okay with the eight-block walk to the vet, so Rachel didn't let Quinn carry him, which the other woman was all too willing to do. Quinn had just shuffled impossibly slowly along behind the dog the whole way, ready to literally catch him if he fell.

They sat in the waiting room for a while. Rachel gave up trying to stop Quinn's fidgeting, and gave her a quarter for the gumball machine so that the bouncing of the blonde's legs wouldn't drive her completely crazy. The doctor finally called them back into the tiny exam room, and Rachel breathed a sigh of relief, following Quinn inside.

"So, how's Mr. Barnaby doing today?" The vet asked, running his hands along Barnaby's sides and checking for swelling and dehydration.

Rachel glanced at Quinn, who was biting her lip and tapping the edge of the exam table anxiously.

"He's not so good." Rachel said, smiling slightly when Barnaby's tail gave a slight wag at her voice. "He's lethargic, and, I mean, it's really obvious, because he's the most excitable dog in the world."

She looked at Quinn again, who nodded slightly in agreement.

"And he didn't eat his breakfast, which is just-it's insane. For him." Rachel finished.

The doctor nodded, checking Barnaby's ears and then gums. "Has he had anything weird to eat over the past week?"

Quinn flushed and stared at Barnaby's paws. Rachel reached over and grabbed her tapping hands.

"Nothing that he hasn't had before." Rachel replied. "I mean, he's gotten into the garbage too many times to count, and he's had stuffed animal legs and DVD players…"

"Iron stomach, huh." The vet chuckled. "How about chocolate? Maybe grapes, caffeine, onions, candy? Any of those?"

Rachel started shaking her head, but Quinn froze. Rachel looked up at her anguished expression.

"I gave him the-the onions off my burger a few days ago. Are they bad for him? Did I do this?" Quinn made a little whining sound. She looked panicked and glanced down at Rachel, who put a calming hand on the taller woman's back.

"Rachel, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Hey, he's okay." The doctor interjected before Quinn could have a full freak out about how she was killing Rachel's dog. Rachel just kept rubbing her back. She gently removed the rubber band from Quinn's wrist before Quinn could snap it again.

"A couple onions from a burger wouldn't have caused this." The vet continued. "Like you said, he's been in the garbage before. Now, looking at his gums, he's a little anemic. He probably ate something on a walk or something he wasn't supposed to have in your house. We can do a blood test if you want, but I think if you just make sure he eats right and give him a day to recover, plenty of water, he'll be fine."

Quinn was wordlessly moving her jaw up and down. Rachel scratched Barnaby's back. "You're sure? He's definitely been eating some…not so good stuff." Rachel glanced at a bashful, slightly calmer Quinn. "He seems so sad."

The vet smiled and patted the goldie's head. "Absolutely. He'll be back to his crazy ways in no time."

Good. Because Barnaby was basically a human in their household.

Rachel tried to cheer Quinn up on their _slow_ walk home. So slow. Maybe if Quinn had _actually_ killed her dog, Rachel would be angry, but Quinn just looked so ashamed. Rachel bumped against her shoulder.

"So, no more Cheetos right?" she said with a smile.

Quinn nodded resolutely, serious expression fixed in place.

"Quinn, he's going to be fine. He's-oh God, look, see that. He just ate someone's gum off the sidewalk. Chewing gum, Quinn. Your childish dislike of onions had nothing to do with this. He's-God, he can't even swallow it."

Quinn cracked a smile and Rachel poked her in the ribs, watching Barnaby hack on, and then inhale the gum. Quinn leaned forward and tweaked his fluffy tail.

"Hey, B, that's gross. No more Cheetos for you, dog. I'm putting you on a diet. Of dog food. And I'm sorry for that."

"He's been spoiled." Rachel remarked.

Quinn chuckled. "Well yeah, apparently you let him eat DVD players…"

For the record, Rachel hadn't actually fed her dog a DVD player. Yeah, she left it sitting out on the floor when B was a puppy, but surely that didn't mean 'eat me.' Anyway, she'd learned her lesson, and now all aspects of their entertainment center were in cabinets under the TV. That night for dinner, Barnaby had only dog food, for the first time since Quinn had moved in.


	8. Chapter 8

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 8: Touch, Sight, Taste like Fire**

Rachel was startled by a knock on her door Saturday afternoon. She patted her hair down and smoothed her hands over her dark jeans, which she had chosen because she refused to allow Siri to trick her into dressing for warmer weather, and pulled her bedroom door open.

Quinn stood there, already in her coat, biting her lip and holding up some flowers. Some of the most colorful flowers Rachel had ever seen. Really, it was like a jungle. A tropical wonderland in Quinn's hand.

"Hi." Quinn said. "I got you these. Um, Barnes ate a few so…I don't know, I hope he's okay."

Of course he did.

Rachel smiled and took the flowers. "They're gorgeous Quinn."

"You're gorgeous." Quinn blurted, then shook her hair around and flushed. "I mean you look gorgeous."

"Thank you, big bear." Rachel said with a small smile. She tapped one of the buttons on Quinn's coat. "You look lovely as well; you must have brushed your hair."

Quinn caught the glint in her eye and shoved her lightly in the shoulder. Rachel laughed. She really couldn't talk, seeing as she'd spent four hours getting ready herself.

"Shall we?" Quinn asked hesitantly, holding her arm out for Rachel to grab. Rachel nodded happily and took hold, and they deposited the flowers in a vase in the kitchen before heading outside. Quinn was wearing a mysterious backpack and Rachel found herself dying of curiosity. What was in there? Weapons? Animals? Because _those_ were the items most likely to be brought along for a date.

Quinn refused to tell her where they were going, no matter how much Rachel whined and pouted. Rachel was surprised. People usually found it impossible to say no to her. Quinn seemed to be doing just fine, dragging her along the streets of Manhattan.

Suddenly Quinn stopped. She turned to face Rachel nervously. "I forgot to ask, are you okay with taking the subway? I mean, I could pay for a cab, but that's-"

Rachel cut her off with a nod, and then raised her eyebrows. "Why would I be averse to taking the subway? It's a classic element of New York life, Quinn." Rachel had taken the subway many times before. She finally stopped getting lost on it a few months ago.

Quinn shrugged and kept walking. "I kind of hate it. There are just so many people." Rachel watched her as they walked. "But, it'll get us there, and the destination is the, um, important part."

Rachel grinned. "Absolutely! Now, this _destination_ you speak of…" she looked up at the blonde expectantly. Quinn rolled her eyes and Rachel squeezed her arm tighter.

They took the subway to Brooklyn, and by the time they got off, Rachel was a pure ball of childish anticipation. She was bouncing on her feet and hanging off Quinn's arm, while Quinn just strode along quietly with a small smile on her face, fiddling with the mitten on her free hand.

Rachel froze when she realized where they were headed. Quinn was jerked back by her arm and looked down at her worriedly.

"Are you okay?"

"You're taking me to Coney Island." Rachel stated, looking into wide, hazel eyes.

Quinn's expression relaxed a little. "Yeah." she warily. "Um, is that-is there something wrong with that?"

Rachel shook her head hurriedly and squeezed Quinn's arm tighter. "No! No, of course not. It's like-it's a classic New York date. It's perfect."

Rachel was awed; she had never been on a date that didn't involve dinner or a movie. Or both. Or both plus vomiting, crying, and screaming. Quinn was carefully studying her reaction, so she made sure her face conveyed just how okay she was with Quinn's plan.

"Seriously, Quinn. This is perfect. Now I just want to know what's in your serial killer bag."

Quinn snorted, just as Rachel wanted her to, and started dragging Rachel along the street again. They reached the beach after a few more minutes of walking. Since it was too cold to go in the water, unless you're fucking insane, there were only a few groups of people chilling out on the sand. The boardwalk was slightly more populated, and Rachel could smell the food, but she was definitely pleased that the rides weren't working today. Sure, she was a huge fan of roller coasters, but God, it would be freezing. And the perfect opportunity to lose all her personal belongings and get sick in front of Quinn.

Rachel looked back at Quinn and found her nervously pulling on the flaps of her mittens and studying Rachel's reaction to everything.

Rachel just smiled at her and let go of her arm to take the fluffy, mittened hand. She pointed at the flap and mouthed "no." Quinn flushed.

"So, if you're hungry, I thought we could eat on the beach." Quinn said, lips quirked up. "That's what's in my, um, _serial killer_ bag."

Rachel nodded and breathed in the salty air as Quinn pulled out a blanket and found a sunny place in the sand. They settled down cross-legged next to each other, and Quinn started pulling out food from her bag. Peanut butter cookies. More peanut butter cookies. Dear God, _more_ cookies. Rachel tried to contain her smile. Quinn added subs, chips, pasta, Fruit-by-the-Foot, and chocolate milk to the pile, and then looked at Rachel expectantly.

"Quinn, I think you have a problem." Rachel said completely seriously. Quinn's face fell; she looked distraught.

"What is it?" she asked worriedly.

"I think you have an unhealthy attachment to peanut butter cookies." Rachel grinned. Quinn processed this for a moment, and then tossed a mitten at Rachel, trying to contain her smile.

"You love them. You'll probably eat half of them." Quinn muttered, already eagerly unwrapping a sub.

Rachel pulled the plastic container full of cookies towards her, and took one out. She tossed Quinn's mitten back to her. "One cookie down, seven hundred thousand to go."

~oooooooooo~

Quinn was sticking three Fruit-by-the-Foots together to create one massive, mad, fruity ball of goodness when Rachel finished her sub and over half the cookies. She lay back on the blanket with her hands crossed over her stomach and sighed contentedly. She didn't get to go to the beach a lot, but the sound of the waves was very relaxing. Rachel side-eyed Quinn; the other woman was watching her, cheeks puffed out like a gerbil to chew her huge, gummy creation.

Rachel smiled. "Good?" she asked sarcastically.

Quinn nodded shamelessly. She held two thumbs up, and Rachel reached up and tapped her cheek. "Don't choke, honey."

Again, Quinn nodded. She breathed deeply like it was exhausting chewing what was in her mouth. Rachel chuckled, and waited until Quinn finally swallowed to ask her question.

"Do you come here a lot, Quinn?"

Quinn laid back on the blanket next to Rachel, both of them looking at the sky, soaking up the sun. "Mmhmm." She affirmed.

Rachel hummed. "It's nice and calm. And quiet. Well, right now."

There was a comfortable silence before Quinn spoke. "I ran away here." Quinn said quietly.

Rachel turned her head to look at Quinn's profile. The blonde was sort of shaking her head back and forth, so that her hair shifted around her face. Rachel reached up to tap her ear, and Quinn stilled, still looking at the sky.

"We came here on a, um, field trip kind of thing when I was seven, and it was…I don't know, happy? Like, I didn't feel…locked in. It's so open."

"It is." Rachel agreed softly, watching the sun reflect off Quinn's eyes.

Quinn continued. "And then when I was-when I was nine, I had a panic attack when some of the girls-some of the older girls were um, calling me names. It was my birthday, so I tried to come-to come here…but I never even got to the subway."

Rachel carefully grabbed one of the hands clenched in Quinn's pockets, urging the woman to continue. She'd had some experience with mean girls on birthdays; it was not pleasant.

"Then when my aunt adopted me, I'd come here all the time. She'd get mad, but… I think I slept on the boardwalk once. And the beach."

Quinn finally turned her head to meet Rachel's eyes. Rachel just waited, and Quinn smiled slightly. Rachel's lips quirked up when she saw that Quinn's tongue was blue.

"It's better now. I think I told you that you make it better." Quinn said with a flush. She smiled when she saw Rachel looking at her tongue. "And I just wanted to share it with you."

Rachel kissed the hand she was holding with a small smile. "Thank you, blue tongue."

Quinn bit her tongue between her teeth with a grin and sat up. She pulled Rachel with her and they left their stuff behind to walk along the boardwalk, hands still clasped together.

It was definitely more crowded along there. Even with the rides shut down, the food and games and music attracted a ton of attention. Rachel soaked it all in. She had no idea why she hadn't been here before. Sure she probably wouldn't eat half of what was being sold, deep-fried hotdogs, seriously, but Quinn and Barnaby would. Oh God. The thought made her smile. Rachel watched Quinn look around with bright eyes, squeezing tighter on Rachel's hand when people would get too close.

They stopped to watch a guy break dance, and then for a magician, who definitely looked like he could be a pedophile. Quinn kept plenty of distance between them; Rachel wasn't complaining, but she clapped gleefully when the guy pulled a stuffed rabbit out of his "empty" hat.

When they came up to Nathan's Hot Dogs, Quinn spun around in front of Rachel and insisted they stop to take a picture.

Rachel looked at the sign and then back at Quinn. "It's a hot dog stand, Quinn. We've passed like, ten, already."

Quinn bounced on her heels and swung hers and Rachel's hands back and forth. Rachel couldn't help but smile.

"No, this is-this is where the-the hot dog-on the-on the fourth of July-"

"Quinn." Rachel raised her eyebrows and smiled at Quinn warmly. She looked so _excited_. "Slow down, okay. Words, right?"

Quinn's bright eyes darted between Rachel's. "On the fourth of July, this is where-where they have the hot dog eating contest. It's just fun to watch. I like hot dogs. With ketchup."

Rachel laughed. "Just ketchup? No mustard, relish?"

Quinn scrunched up her face and shook her head.

Rachel looked back at Nathan's. "Okay. Let's take a picture." Rachel was all too glad to document this outing. Nobody would believe that a first date could involve standing around outside a hot dog stand for, like, ten minutes now. Rachel had actually taken part in an eating contest before; she was ten, and it was cherry pie on Thanksgiving, and she only managed one, and she looked like she'd been bludgeoned in the face, but…yeah, it was fun.

Quinn pulled out her camera from her back pocket and looked at the people walking around them slightly anxiously. She fiddled with the camera strap as Rachel watched, but didn't move to approach anyone. Rachel gently removed the camera from Quinn's grasp with a wink and a smile, and bounded up to a nice looking couple who were walking past.

"Hi!" she said, looking up into their eyes. They smiled at her. "Would you mind taking a picture of me and my friend? She's kind of obsessed with this hot dog place." Rachel stage-whispered the last part and made the "crazy" motion with her free hand. She glanced at a blushing Quinn with a bright, innocent smile.

The couple laughed and nodded, and Rachel hopped back over to Quinn and put her arm around the taller woman's waist.

"I'm not obsessed. It's just cool." Quinn muttered through her smile, wrapping her arm around Rachel's shoulders. Rachel grabbed the hand that was dangling over her shoulder and leaned in to Quinn's side.

"I know." She said in to Quinn's ear. "It's cute."

The guy took the picture as Rachel grinned back at the camera and Quinn looked at Rachel with a smile and a bit lip. It was perfect.

After taking more pictures at Astroland and the Wonder Wheel, and watching Quinn reenact a poster of a sword-swallowing woman, without the sword, they ended their walk by a railing that separated the boardwalk from the beach. They leaned up against it and watched as the sun got a little lower in the sky. Rachel hoped nobody had stolen their things from the beach. Who would? Really, for empty, peanut butter-scented Tupperware and a pile of Fruit-by-the-Foot wrappers.

"This was perfect, Quinn." Rachel said sincerely, turning to face her.

Quinn smiled shyly. "Really? You liked it? You had fun?"

Rachel nodded and wrapped her hands around the rail in front of her. "I don't think-actually, no. This is the best first date I've ever had." Rachel decided not to mention that she'd only had a few first dates, seeing as the second almost never came.

Quinn couldn't contain her grin, and they lapsed into comfortable silence, listening to the sound of the waves. Quinn started drumming along the railing a few minutes later. Rachel watched her fingers.

"Rachel." Quinn said abruptly. Rachel faced her again, putting a hand over Quinn's on the railing.

"Quinn."

Quinn swallowed and Rachel furrowed her brows. Uh-oh.

"I've never had a real-a real kiss before." Quinn's ears were bright red.

Oh God. Where was this going? And, oh good Lord, stop staring at her lips, Rachel. Rein it in. Just rein it in. Rachel waited calmly, well calmly on the _outside_, until hazel eyes finally met hers. She smiled softly at Quinn.

"What do you mean a real kiss?" she asked quietly. Rachel wondered what a _fake_ kiss could be.

Quinn hesitated. "Um, well, some of-some of the foster boys kissed me, but…They were just kind off, not nice about it…" she trailed off.

Rachel felt the hands shift under her own. She didn't know if she should make a move. God, it felt like life or death. Red wire or blue wire! The time is running out!

She made a decision.

Rachel pulled one of Quinn's hands off the railing, and then stepped in front of her. And then closer. And closer. Quinn's hazel eyes were locked on her the whole time. She put one hand up around Quinn's neck, brushing the blonde hair lightly, and kept her other hand holding Quinn's on the railing. Then she leaned up on her tip toes and kissed her.

God, and the world slotted into place. Or something like that. Really, Quinn was hesitant at first, but when she responded, and wrapped her arm around Rachel's waist, it was perfect. Freaking perfect. It wasn't long, you know, Rachel didn't want to come off as some French-kissing whore or something on the first date, on Quinn's first kiss but, God she wanted to do it over and over again now.

She looked up at Quinn, who shook her head a little, ruffling the blonde hair around. Rachel absently patted it back down, lips tingling, face on fire. Quinn looked dazed; she smiled softly and bit her lip as Rachel looked up at her. Rachel grinned like a fucking fool. She didn't even bother trying to control it; it was impossible, because, God, she just kissed the most gorgeous girl in the world. Quinn's smile morphed into a foolish grin, and she pulled Rachel into a hug. Whatever, they could be fools together.

~oooooooooo~

**Santana: **Berry. You there?

**Rachel:** Yes, Santana. It's five am. And Sunday. What is wrong with you?

Rachel rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and propped herself up against her headboard. Seriously, who texts someone before the sun has even come up?

**Santana: **How was your date?

**Rachel: **Really? You want to know how my date was? How sweet.

**Santana: **STFU. This convo would be shorter if you answered me.

**Rachel: **It was perfect. :)

**Santana: **You disgust me.

**Rachel: **We went to Coney Island.

**Santana: **Disgusting.

**Rachel: **And I kissed her.

**Santana: **Soo dissssgusting…but, good job, Berry. Now GTFO cuz it's five am. Who texts at five am. Seriously.

**Rachel: **Ass.

Rachel was about to go back to sleep when she heard movement in the kitchen. Sure, it was probably Barnaby, who had been sleeping with Quinn, and must have decided to make himself an early morning snack. She got up to investigate anyway.

Walking through the kitchen, she found Quinn with a mouthful of gummy worms at the breakfast bar, a bowl of Froot Loops and ice cream in front of her. Rachel just stared. Oh God, she wanted to vomit.

Quinn turned when she realized she wasn't alone, and held up a hand in greeting, trying to hurriedly swallow all her gummy worms.

"Quinn. You can't-how can you eat like that? It's not healthy, honey." Rachel said, smiling slightly when Quinn ducked her head as Rachel ruffled her hair. "You'll make yourself sick."

Quinn frowned and looked at her food. Rachel could see that she wanted to eat it. It was calling her name.

"I like it." Quinn said. She looked Rachel in the eye, and Rachel plucked a gummy worm off the counter and bit it in half.

"I don't like the yellow part." Rachel said, dropping the other half in Quinn's bowl of colorful, sugary mess. God, she'd need a wheelbarrow of insulin to go with that.

Quinn took a spoonful of the ice cream cereal and ate it, groaning exaggeratedly in appreciation. Rachel chuckled and shoved her shoulder lightly.

"Why are you awake before the sun? You hate mornings."

Quinn looked back at her food. "I couldn't sleep."

Rachel walked to the other side of the counter and leaned against it, watching Quinn. "Is it the noises?"

Quinn shook her head. "No. I like-Barnaby sort of helps. With that. I was…" Quinn flushed and started stacking Froot Loops on the counter. "I was just replaying yesterday. Over and over."

A smile worked its way across Rachel's face as she listened to Quinn. She tapped Quinn's hand to get her to look at her when the Froot Loop towers collapsed all over the floor. Barnaby cleaned up the wreckage.

"We should do it again." Rachel said. Quinn smiled. "I know my shows make evening dates kind of hard, but, how about a lunch date tomorrow? During your break?"

Quinn nodded enthusiastically and knocked the spoon out of her bowl. Rachel laughed.

"Oh, Rachel, I wanted to ask you something."

Rachel poured herself some coffee, seeing as she wouldn't be going back to bed anytime soon.

"Quinn, I just asked you out again. You don't need to ask me." Rachel said jokingly. Quinn threw some Froot Loops at her.

"There's a puppy at the rescue. He's a border collie mix…And he's really fluffy and sweet…"

Rachel stopped messing with the coffee and smiled knowingly at Quinn. "And you want him." She stated.

Quinn nodded hesitantly, watching Rachel's reaction. "I thought we could name him Cornelius, from that movie you told me about. And, you know, he could be Barnes' friend when we're not home…"

Rachel focused her eyes on the coffee pot as she thought for a minute. Yeah, this could just be rescuing a puppy and giving Barnaby a new friend. Maybe it would calm some of B's crazy; that would be awesome. It could also just be the first step to owning herds upon herds of dogs and being arrested for hoarding. Quinn seemed like the type to want swarms of animals around.

"I promise he'll like you." Quinn pleaded quietly. Her ice cream was melting.

God, "no" wasn't even an option for Rachel here. She turned back to Quinn with a reluctant smile and rolled her eyes.

"Okay. Bring Cornelius home after work and we'll see how B likes him."

Quinn's eyes lit up and an excited cry escaped her mouth. She carefully slid off the breakfast bar stool and walked around to give Rachel a hug. Rachel was amused. She squeezed back tightly.

"But you can't feed him junk. And you have to teach him manners." Rachel added into Quinn's shoulder. Quinn just nodded along.

"Of course. You'll love him, I promise."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Yeah, this story was definitely lacking in sweetness, so I added a puppy. Of course. Thank you for reading and for your reviews; you all are wonderful! I understand if you need to take a few days to read this; I'm still recovering from last night as well.**

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 9: The Signs are All Quiet**

"No, Quinn, we're not nicknaming our puppy _Nelly_."

Not that there were many other options, really, with a name like Cornelius. What was left? Corny? Absolutely fucking not. Still, Rachel needed something shorter to call him if, and when, she found herself consumed with irrational outrage at his actions.

As it turned out, Cornelius made Barnaby look like a fucking angel. With a halo. Trained by God himself. Barnaby actually seemed a little proud that Rachel had now placed him on a pedestal for his "good" behavior. Sure, "Corny" or "Nelly" was probably the fluffiest and most adorable creature to exist on this earth, aside from Rachel's girlfriend _of course_, but Jesus he was a handful. A basket-full. Or basket case. To put it lightly. The first thing he did when he walked through the door, let's not even get into what he did _outside_ the door, that evening was gleefully pee up the dining room table. Quinn swept him up and took him right back outside while Rachel rolled her eyes and restrained Barnaby.

Quinn looked a little guilty when they returned, and Rachel watched her towel- dry the table leg while trying to convince her not to nickname their new dog after a rapper.

"Quinn! He had a hit single called _Pimp Juice_. That is not acceptable! You need to come up with a different name!" Rachel ranted, scooping Cornelius up as he sunk his teeth into the plug-in air freshener that smelled like Christmas trees. In March.

"I don't know who he is, and I don't know what pimp juice means." Quinn stated, throwing the paper towels away and walking closer to Rachel so she could take the puppy's face in her hands. God, how could a demon look so adorable?

"Seal." Quinn said.

The fuck? Rachel knew Quinn was a little off in the clouds, but…

"The nickname." Quinn clarified. Well, not really clarified, more like _confused even further_. "Like, Cornelius backwards."

Rachel stared at her, and tried to spell the name "Cornelius" backwards. In her mind. She was not successful, and got as far as phonetically sounding out "seal," before she gave up and waved her arms around in exasperation. Goddamned animals, man.

Quinn grinned.

Okay, their puppy would be nicknamed after a semi-aquatic marine mammal. Whatever.

The phone rang, and Rachel put…Cornelius, no she would not use that nickname unless it was completely necessary…down, and he went blasting off into Rachel's bedroom with Barnaby, Quinn hot on their heels. It was the landline, which was weird, and it took her about a minute to figure out which button to push before she got it to work. God, it was like the dark ages.

"Hi, I'm looking for Quinn. Is she there?"

Rachel eyed the doorway her exuberant girlfriend had just disappeared through.

"Um," she was surprised, first that someone was looking for Quinn, and second that Cornelius just came running out of the bedroom and straight into the glass door to the balcony. She winced, and waved Quinn over.

"Yeah, she's right here. May I ask who's calling?" Rachel said.

"It's Lisa. Her aunt."

Rachel nodded slowly and Quinn looked at her questioningly. Rachel held the phone out with her hand over the mouthpiece.

"Your aunt." She whispered.

Quinn's eyes widened and she took an automatic step back. Almost immediately her hands started playing with seam of the squeaky toy she was holding.

"What does she want?" Quinn asked cautiously.

Rachel shrugged and gave her a sympathetic smile. Quinn held the phone up to her ear and Rachel gently took the toy from her, and went to sit at the breakfast bar.

"Hello?" Quinn said quietly. Rachel watched her nod and hum a few times. No, she wasn't eavesdropping, that's not how she rolls. She simply wanted to be sure that Quinn wasn't about to fly off the handle and have a panic attack, leaving her to deal with the demon puppy. The now neurologically questionable demon puppy. He had been home for _seven minutes_.

Quinn seemed calm so far, except for the hand that was tapping rapidly along the counter.

"No, I got a job." Quinn said, voice slightly louder than before. She was shaking her blonde head around, so her hair fell in her eyes.

"An animal rescue." She continued. Rachel watched carefully, and picked up Cornelius as he attacked her legs, hugging him to her chest if only to still his exuberance. Barnaby tried unsuccessfully to slither up the chair to join them.

Quinn frowned. "It's not-I like it. It's not a waste of time."

Rachel narrowed her eyes.

Quinn pushed off the counter and started pacing in circles around the tiny kitchen. "No, I stopped-I stopped taking them." She rubbed at her forehead and sighed. "I don't think I need them. I don't-I never needed them."

Rachel had only heard Quinn's aunt speak exactly twelve words and she wanted to slap the bitch. Quinn sighed and hummed a few more times before hanging up. She ran both her hands through her hair, and shook her head around, shifting on her feet.

Rachel put Cornelius back down with his new best friend Barnaby, and grabbed some gummy worms and walked back around the breakfast bar. Quinn looked at her feet.

"Everything okay?" Rachel asked cautiously, gently pushing Quinn against the counter so she'd stop fidgeting. Quinn pursed her lips. Rachel dangled a gummy worm in front of Quinn's face so that hazel eyes would look up.

She smiled when they did and nodded encouragingly for Quinn to take the gummy worm. Quinn took the bag out of Rachel's hands instead and stuffed some in her mouth. Rachel chuckled.

"You can tell me if something's wrong, Quinn."

Quinn shook her head, cheeks puffed out. Her shoulders finally relaxed, but she wouldn't meet Rachel's eyes.

"She just-it's my…In-in two weeks-"

Rachel put her hands on Quinn's shoulders and ducked until Quinn made eye contact. "Words, honey. Slow down."

"It's my birthday in two weeks, and she-she, um, put some money in my account for me for that…And, she's gonna stop paying for me. For my stuff. Soon."

Rachel nodded. "Is that it?" she asked carefully. Of course not.

Quinn nodded slightly anyway. "Yeah." She said quietly.

Rachel studied her for a second, then cupped her cheeks and leaned up and pecked her on the lips. Quinn flushed and smiled. Rachel grinned. Desired effect, achieved.

~oooooooooo~

The lunch date the next day went well, or, as well as it could go with a horde of fans knowledgeable of your location. So…not really well at all. Rachel felt bad because Quinn was a nervous wreck, but she also found out Quinn was probably one of the most protective people she had ever met. She kept her arm around Rachel all night, so, you know… upside.

Plus, they had planned a dinner date for the weekend.

Now Rachel was getting ready to leave her changing room after her evening show, and wondering who had stolen all the nail polishes from her dresser. She looked in the mirror when she heard the door open to see Quinn walk through and stand behind her chair with a small smile.

Quinn leaned over and kissed her on the cheek from behind. "You were amazing tonight."

Rachel blushed. "You say that every night."

Quinn grinned and looked down at her feet. "Then you're amazing every night."

Oh, God. The sweetness. Rachel didn't know if she could handle it.

"Is anyone else coming back here?" she asked Quinn when she managed to collect herself. Quinn collapsed on the couch and shook her head, shuffling through the old magazines and candy and chocolate on the table.

"Just me. Are you ready?"

Rachel nodded, and they made their way out the side door of the theater where a line of fans was waiting for Rachel's autograph. Rachel glanced at Quinn guiltily, and Quinn just gave her a half-smile and waved her away, opening up the seven-year-old Starburst she had just found.

"Do your thing, little bear."

Rachel stepped up to the fence and started signing things that were handed to her. She took a few pictures with people as she moved down the line.

"Rachel, you were phenomenal tonight!"

"Ms. Berry, you're my idol! You look gorgeous!"

"Hey Rachel, that girl you've been with the whole day is hot. Is she your girlfriend?"

One of these things is not like the other…

Rachel smirked. "She is very beautiful." She said, not looking up from signing somebody's iPhone. Yeah, _iPhone_. She didn't understand how people could pay hundreds of dollars for these just to have her write all over them. She'd punch somebody in the face if they wrote on the back of hers.

But, you know, she was thankful that people appreciated her so much. Of course.

Rachel took a step back from the barrier when a scuffle broke out a little further down the line. Quinn was by her side in an instant, looking anxious and unsettled. Rachel let her hold onto her arm.

"Who the hell are you?" A guy called from behind the line. Rachel rolled her eyes; some people were just dumbasses.

"Hey Rachel, how true are the diva rumors flying around?"

Dumbass.

"Are you really that big of a bitch to work with?"

Dumbass.

Rachel just ignored them, but she felt Quinn's hold on her arm tighten. "Stop-stop being mean to her." Quinn said to the crowd in general, voice raised to be heard. A few people smiled at her, and Rachel nudged her in the ribs, then everybody's attention was caught by the now full-blown fight going on.

Ladies and gentlemen, Funny Girl fight club.

Quinn tried to back away, still holding onto Rachel. The yelling was getting louder; Rachel hoped there weren't any impressionable small children in the crowd. If there were, well, their parents would be having a few issues later.

"I don't like fights." Quinn said directly into Rachel's here. Rachel realized the blonde was basically vibrating, and gestured to the bodyguard that they were ready to go.

Rachel just watched Quinn as they sat in the cab on the way home. She wasn't shaking so much, she just had her legs crossed and was jiggling her foot like crazy.

"Maybe you shouldn't, you know, come out back with me anymore." Rachel suggested gently.

Quinn's face fell and Rachel felt something squeeze on her heart.

"But, there-there are so many people. What if-what if you get hurt?"

Rachel put a hand on Quinn's knee. "Look at me Quinn." She smiled softly when hazel eyes met her own. "I have bodyguards and cops surrounding me after every show. I'm _always_ careful. Nothing's going to happen to me. I'll always come home, okay?"

Quinn nodded slowly and reluctantly.

"But I'll call you if I need you to beat someone up." Rachel added, twinkle in her eye. Quinn had to smile.

"Or I can beat them up myself." Rachel said.

Quinn grinned and put her head on Rachel's shoulder. Rachel ran her hand through blonde hair until Quinn stopped quivering, and she remembered something Kurt had mentioned the day before. Not so much mentioned, as _threatened_.

"Kurt texted me and he wants to have lunch on Friday, like a double date. Apparently he found himself a new boyfriend." Rachel was skeptical. Kurt's new 'boyfriends' were usually either straight guys or jackasses.

Quinn nodded slowly.

"So you're okay with that?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah. I like Kurt." Quinn said quietly, pressing her face into Rachel's neck.

Rachel smiled and pulled her closer, giggling when Quinn kissed just under her ear. She sobered a little bit when she thought about the inevitable slobbery destruction that would be waiting for them when they got home.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel woke up the next morning when she heard Quinn thundering through the apartment and into Rachel's bedroom. She blinked sleepily and hurled Cuddles at the intrusion. He went in the opposite direction.

Quinn pounced on the bed with a box in her hands. "Rachel, you have a package." She said excitedly.

Rachel groaned and rolled over. Quinn pressed one of her reptile feet against Rachel's leg that was sticking out from the covers. Rachel whined and flailed about before sitting up reluctantly.

Quinn eagerly handed the small box over, and then moved her feet under the blankets. Rachel rubbed them warm absently as she studied the package.

"Oh, it's just my dads. They've been sending me care packages since college." She said with a smile. "It's mostly cheap junk food like-oh, hey, actually, you'd love it." Rachel held the package out to Quinn with raised eyebrows.

Quinn's eyes flickered from it to Rachel. "You want me to open it?"

Rachel shrugged. "I don't think I've eaten anything my dads have sent me in seven years."

Quinn just stared at her.

"Seriously, Quinn, open it so I can go back to sleep."

Quinn immediately ripped off the masking tape haphazardly, tearing the cardboard in the process. Barnaby and Cornelius came bounding into the room and up onto the bed. It was like they could _smell_ the mess.

Sure enough, Quinn pulled out Fritos, Twinkies, Ho-Hos, Little Debbie snack cakes, mini brownies, Funions, Fruit Roll-Ups, and freaking Scooby-Doo gummies. Quinn was in heaven. Rachel groaned and shoved the dogs off the bed. Yeah, they'd be dead if they got into this stash. Rachel would be dead if she got into this stash. Quinn was probably dying right now.

"Your dads are awesome." Quinn said absently, biting into a Ho-Ho. Rachel thought this was a wonderful breakfast food choice. She grimaced and lay back down on her side facing Quinn.

"How was it, to grow up with them?" Quinn asked through her mouthful of cake and cream. Rachel chose to focus on the hazel eyes instead of this sight.

"You mean to grow up with gay parents? Well-" Rachel started; Quinn cut her off.

"No. Like, um, just with parents. You know, who are happy."

Rachel watched her carefully. She was sucking the cream out of the middle of a Ho-Ho. Charming. But, seriously, she couldn't not smile at that.

"They were really supportive. Or, are, I guess. They sort of gave me everything I wanted, which, you know, some people call me self-centered-"

"You're not self-centered." Quinn said immediately. It came out as 'bwroo ot erf-emderd.' Rachel chuckled.

"Big bear, you're getting crumbs all over my bed. Please control yourself."

Quinn looked suitably chastised.

"Anyway, that made the bullying worse, because people thought I thought I was better than everyone else. But my parents were great. They'd play Scrabble and Monopoly with me on Friday nights, and we'd have movie marathons."

Rachel glanced at Quinn. She was listening and chewing intently, eyes bright.

"Will you tell me more about your aunt?"

Quinn stopped chewing and started shuffling all the food around to get off the bed. Crap, Rachel thought. Crap. Crap. Crap. She reached out and caught Quinn's wrist.

"No, no, wait. I'm sorry. Tell me about something else. What would you like for your birthday?"

Quinn settled back down warily and resumed eating. "You don't-you don't have to get me anything, Rachel." She said after a moment.

Rachel gave her an 'are you kidding me' look. Really, Rachel was known for going overboard with her birthday gifts. She gotten Kurt a racehorse a few years ago, when he'd mentioned briefly that it would be cool to own one. A fucking racehorse. _That _had been sold immediately. But Rachel just could not be denied.

"If you don't tell me what you want, I'll get you something ridiculous and stupid." Rachel was going to say 'like a racehorse,' but she figured Quinn would actually love that.

"There's one thing I want." Quinn said quietly, biting into yet another damn Ho-Ho. Rachel waited expectantly.

"Will-I want-I'd like you to be my girlfriend."

Rachel wasn't even surprised. She was ecstatic, but not surprised. How was Quinn the one to keep taking these steps in the relationship? Seriously, step it up Berry. She tried to calm her heart so she could reply.

"Of course I'll be your girlfriend, Quinn." She smiled warmly up at the other woman. Her smile was snapping her face in half.

"Are you sure? Because I-I know we've only been on, um, a few dates. And I've never had-"

"Yes, I'm sure." Rachel interrupted. She was about to say 'kiss me,' but she glanced at Quinn's mouth again and thought better of it. Quinn wasn't privy to this train of thought, and she leaned down and gave Rachel a cakey, creamy, chocolatey open-mouthed kiss right on the lips.

"Mm, perfect." Rachel said, half-sarcastically. Because, really, it was perfect. She pulled Quinn to lie down next to her and licked the Ho-Ho off her own lips. Yeah, she was lying on a bed filled with junk food, with two horribly behaved dogs at her feet, and a girlfriend next to her choking on a snack cake, but she didn't want to move for the world.

~oooooooooo~

"No, Kurt. I haven't forgotten our lunch date. I hadn't forgotten it the four hundred times you've called before now, and I'm not going to forget it in the next six hours. So please stop calling me before the sun is up, or I'm calling it off. I'm hanging up now."

Rachel heard faint screeching coming from the line as she ended the call and stuck her head back under the pillow. It was three hours later when she shuffled into the kitchen, dressed and waiting for Quinn to come home during her lunch break.

She sat at the counter and ate the blue ends of a few gummy worms, sticking the yellow ones back into the bag for Quinn. Rachel knew Quinn had arrived when Barnaby and his new sidekick Cornelius went rocketing from the kitchen to fling themselves at the front door.

Rachel smiled and waited for Quinn's exclamations of adoration for the dogs to fill the apartment; surprisingly, they didn't come. Quinn walked through the living room brushing them away after simply patting their heads. Barnaby looked affronted. Cornelius was a little too dumb right now to notice.

"Hey Quinn." Rachel got off the stool and walked over to her, putting her arms around Quinn's neck for a kiss. Quinn smiled and pulled her closer.

"Everything okay?" Rachel asked. Barnaby still seemed pretty disappointed. Quinn was his fucking hero.

Quinn nodded easily and grabbed Rachel's bag from the counter. "Ready to go?" she asked. Rachel took her hand and they walked to the elevator and then out to the waiting cab.

Quinn didn't really say a whole lot on the journey to the restaurant, but Rachel couldn't really blame her, seeing as their cab driver looked like an eighty-year old serial killer. Or a victim of a serial killer. Quinn was actually surprisingly calm, which had to be a good thing.

They spotted Kurt and this new guy, Blaine, as soon as they walked out to the patio of the restaurant. There were basically rainbows spewing from their seats. Rachel did a subtle once-over of the guy…well, she thought it was subtle. Kurt narrowed his eyes at her. Rachel winked at him.

"Are you having a stroke?" Kurt asked, motioning for them to sit down.

"Kurt, be nice." Blaine said brightly, turning to face Rachel and Quinn with a huge smile. Okay, this kid was definitely cheerful. "I've heard so much about you guys!" Blaine exclaimed.

Rachel grinned. She was always infected by other peoples' enthusiasm, it was like her drug. Smiles. Laughter. She was definitely getting her fix.

"Well it's great to meet the guy who captured Kurt's heart." Rachel proclaimed. Quinn nodded along, eyes fixed on Blaine's collar. "And, hey Kurt, he's actually gay!" Rachel continued in a congratulatory tone.

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"So, what's good here?" Blaine broke in, clapping his hands. Wow, that smile definitely wasn't going anywhere.

Rachel opened her menu as Kurt started spouting off every single item of food that was listed. Apparently he lived at this place. It was pretty basic, you know, in that she could pronounce everything. She watched Quinn's hands out of the corner of her eye. Completely still.

Alright. Sugar must be necessary.

"Do you want a milkshake, Quinn?" Rachel asked, pointing to the picture in the menu. "You'd probably like the chocolate. They put cream on the top. Oh! And they have chocolate chip pancakes." She added excitedly.

Quinn shook her head. "No thanks. I'm gonna get the club sandwich."

Rachel leaned over so she could say something in Quinn's ear, glancing over to make sure Kurt and Blaine were still arguing about who the last bread roll belonged to. Of course they were.

"Are you sure you're alright Quinn?"

Quinn turned and made eye contact with a smile. "Rachel, I'm great. I promise."

Rachel studied her. Maybe performing every night was making her crazy or something; she shook it off and grinned back at Quinn. Quinn put a hand on the back of Rachel's neck and rubbed soothingly, and oh God, yeah. She was definitely just delusional, because this was amazing.

She tried to control her face when Blaine and Kurt started looking at her weirdly. She switched to a less orgasmic expression and regarded them calmly.

"Well, I'm ready to order."

By the end of the lunch, Rachel was in love with Kurt's new boyfriend. She had determined that he and Kurt would be married by the end of the year, with her as the…best man? Maid of honor? And that babies would be coming along next year. Blaine had just blushed and gone along with her crazy. Kurt kicked her in the shin.

Quinn sat quietly eating her sandwiches and smiling occasionally. No tapping. She barely even looked at the extra straws on the table. Totally normal.

Kurt leaned across the table as Quinn went to the bathroom and Blaine went with his massive smile to talk to somebody he recognized on the other side of the patio. Kurt's designer sleeves went right in glob of ketchup.

He addressed her distractedly as he scrubbed at the spot with some napkins. "Stop laughing, Rachel, this shirt was two hundred dollars."

Rachel winced. Mostly because he paid two hundred dollars for a shirt.

"So, how are you and Quinn doing?" Kurt asked, apparently satisfied with his cleaning job. He leaned across the table again and did the exact same thing with the ketchup.

"Ah fucking hell!"

Rachel decided to answer the question anyway, handing Kurt some napkins that she wet with the condensation on her glass.

"She's my girlfriend now." She said proudly.

Kurt stopped what he was doing and looked up. Rachel watched some kind of realization dawn in his blue eyes. "Oh," he said slowly, "so that explains it."

Rachel frowned. "Explains what?"

Kurt went back to frantically scrubbing at his sleeve. "She's acting weird…well, no, she's acting normal, which is weird."

Rachel stared at him.

"She's on her best behavior." Kurt clarified. "You know, tone down the crazy."

"Don't call her crazy." Rachel said immediately. Kurt smiled knowingly at her, now finished with his sleeve. Rachel covered the ketchup glob with a napkin to make sure they didn't have any more damn problems with it.

"She's done something. Or she's…changed something. For you. And- Jesus Christ I just sat in mustard!" Kurt exclaimed

God, somebody help this kid with his condiments.

"What does that mean?" Rachel asked, dunking a stack of napkins in her abandoned drink, even though Kurt's outfit was long-ruined.

Kurt sighed in frustration and halted his ghetto cleaning efforts. "Just…get to know her better. Make sure she knows you don't want her to…change. I guess."

"We have a date tomorrow night." Rachel offered, as Blaine returned to the table, smile even brighter than before.

Kurt smiled at her and looked past Rachel's head to where Quinn was coming back from the restroom.

"Perfect." He said.

He swiped his sleeve through Blaine's ketchup on his way out of the booth.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Trust me, it was not fun writing normal Quinn, and it will not last. **

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 10: You Know****,**** You're off the Tracks**

"_Chapter one of this Hawthorne novel is titled 'The Old Pyncheon Family_."

Rachel had absolutely no idea what Alex Trebek was talking about. She started playing absently with Quinn's fingers and glanced around the living room, a little bored.

"What is The House of the Seven Gables." Quinn said quietly. Rachel turned her head to look at her, and then back at the game of Jeopardy on TV. Sure enough, that one weird guy who's way too enthusiastic with his buzzer got the question right. The House of the Seven Gables. Rachel patted Quinn's arm with a smile; Quinn stayed focused on the TV.

Hmm, Rachel eyed the box of cookies between them. Time for a game. Since she wouldn't be answering very many of these ridiculous trivia questions herself, and since Alex Trebek made her want to hurt somebody, she vowed to eat a cookie every time Quinn got a question right.

One cookie down.

"_This endangered giraffe relative is more at home in the rainforest than on the open plain_."

"What is the okapi?" Quinn said.

Another cookie.

"_In February 1778 Baron Friedrich von Steuben arrived at this Pennsylvania site to train the Continental Army._"

Quinn paused for a moment on this one. "What is Valley Forge?"

Yep, Rachel was having her fill tonight. Quinn didn't even seem to notice that the cookies were vanishing so rapidly. Rachel was surprised; Quinn was a fucking cookie monster.

"_This "Symphonie Fantastique" composer was given 20,000 francs by Paganini, who declared him a musical genius_."

"Who is Berlioz?" Quinn stared calmly at the screen.

Fuck. Rachel stuffed another cookie in her mouth.

"_Electron microscopes provide images with resolution measured in these units, also known as millimicrons, that are equal to about 1/50,000 the width of a human hair._"

"What are nanometers?"

Jesus Christ. Rachel was gonna vomit. Alright, girl, get your head in the game. Focus. Finish strong. Quinn and cookies couldn't defeat Rachel.

"_The accuracy of the dreams we brothers do not know...one thing we are sure about the dreamer has to go._"

Quinn was silent; Rachel started humming immediately because that clue sounded familiar. Wait. Wait a fucking second.

Rachel froze and then leapt off the couch.

"JOSEPH AND THE-DREAMCOAT-TECHNICOLOR AMAZING-JOSEPH AND THE-WHAT IS JOSEPH AND THE AMAZING-"

"And with that we head to a commercial break."

Fuck. The pressure got to her. Goddamned Joseph and the Amazing Technicolored Dreamcoat. Really, who can come up with that fucking name on the spot. Rachel sighed. She gave herself a point anyway; she knew what the answer was in her mind.

Rachel turned back around to face the couch and found Quinn staring at her with wide eyes.

"I got that one." Rachel mumbled defensively, collapsing back onto the couch and leaning into Quinn's side.

"Yes you did." Quinn remarked absently. She was staring right at the empty cookie container. Uh-oh. To Rachel's surprise, Quinn simply ignored the fact that there was only half off one left, and turned back to the TV to answer Final Jeopardy.

"_English poet Thomas Hoccleve, a contemporary of this man, called him the "firste fyndere of our fair langage_."

"Who is Chaucer?" Quinn said easily.

Rachel had to laugh; she shook her head slightly against Quinn's shoulder. Adding this game to the fact that Quinn seemed to have become a different person in the last week, well, it was all just ridiculous. Date night would be answers night. Tomorrow night. But Rachel didn't even try to convince herself that she was a patient person, because she knew she was a pretty high-strung psychopath a lot of the time, so, she decided to start small. Right now.

"Why didn't you go to college, Quinn?"

Quinn pulled away a little to look at Rachel weirdly.

Rachel clarified. "I mean, I know about the panic attacks," she started slowly, "and there are lots of people and noises, but have you thought about online classes? You're just…crazy smart, Quinn."

Quinn didn't move. She didn't say anything and she wasn't fidgeting; Rachel was leaning into a fucking statue. Finally Quinn replied. "I told you, I just didn't think college would be right for me."

Rachel sighed and ran her fingers lightly over Quinn's forearm. Okey-dokey then. Tonight was not the night to find out why Quinn turned into a robot. Rachel tilted her head up to speak in Quinn's ear.

"Well, maybe you can go on Jeopardy and win us hundreds of thousands of dollars, and we can go live in Africa with our own zebras and elephants and lions."

Quinn's body relaxed and she turned, smiling slightly, and kissed Rachel on the cheek. Rachel kept watching her when Quinn turned back to the TV. She had expected Quinn to name their zebras, elephants, and lions. Fluffy and Muffin and Puddles. To come up with some more animals to add, what color to paint their house, could Cornelius herd a group of gazelle? Instead, Quinn sat with a calm face watching a rerun of The Office.

And, for the record, Rachel argued that Cornelius _could_ herd a flock/herd/swarm of gazelle. With Quinn as his master he would do anything.

~ooooooooooo~

The next evening, Rachel was in the middle of moderately freaking out about the date when Quinn knocked on her bedroom door with a bouquet of flowers, all purple this time, and a smile on her face. Rachel smiled back.

She had a goal. Not really a plan to execute it, which, yeah she should probably work on that, but she had a _goal_. And Rachel Berry had never not fulfilled a goal. Except when it came to defeating Angry Birds, of course.

Rachel put on her coat, took the flowers, and kissed Quinn sweetly on the lips before dragging her out the front door.

They went to a moderately populated restaurant that was about ten minutes away by cab; Rachel picked it for its mac 'n cheese, which, God, wasn't even vegan. And then Quinn ordered a damn hamburger. She skimmed through the menu, and ordered a hamburger with a straight face, and Rachel just stared.

Time to put her nonexistent plan into place.

Rachel thought she'd start this conversation off slow and steady, completely the opposite of ripping off a Band-Aid. Which meant it could hurt like hell, for a long time, but, whatever. She didn't have time to think this over; she wanted Quinn back now.

"So how do you think the show's coming along, Quinn?" Rachel asked casually, sipping her lemonade. She was trying to seem nonchalant, so hopefully Quinn couldn't tell she was about to spill it all over herself.

Quinn smiled at her. "It's amazing. You're the best part, Rachel. I think you make everybody else better."

Damn you Quinn and your heartwarming sentiments. Rachel focused on Quinn's eyes so that she didn't forget her objective and get sucked into a black hole of mush. Wait, wait, what was she doing? Oh, yeah. Quinn's eyes looked dull, actually. Glazed over. How long had they been like that?

Rachel furrowed her brow in concern. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked Quinn.

Quinn nodded immediately. God, don't sprain your neck, woman. Rachel accepted this for now. But Berries were nothing if not fucking persistent. She realized this night would probably end in tears, or some sort of wonderfully melodramatic public scene, but whatever. Bring it on.

Rachel took one of Quinn's hands in her own, one of the two hands that were completely ignoring the spare straws sitting right in front of Quinn. Quinn grinned at her and interlaced their fingers.

"I saw this dog today that looked like a tiger." Rachel said, lips quirked up.

Quinn's eyes widened. "No way." She said.

Rachel chuckled and nodded. "It was adorable. I've never seen a stripy dog before. Oh, and it was like, seven feet tall."

Rachel was not exaggerating actually. This thing must have been bred in some sort of underground, government, scientific facility for superpower war animals because it was…not of this world. And then a fat guy in Central Park just happened to take it for a walk.

"There's one in the rescue right now that looks like a polar bear." Quinn remarked.

Rachel smiled at her. "Aw, what's his name?"

Quinn shrugged. "I call him Fuzzy, but only because he has three legs." Glazed eyes met Rachel's warm, brown ones. Rachel continued to get Quinn talking until their food arrived, and she focused on her fajitas while Quinn picked at her burger.

Really, she _picked_ at it. Like little bites mixed with grimaces. Well, don't force yourself, Quinn. Rachel had to say something now, if only because a cow fucking died for this.

"Seriously, Quinn, are you alright?" Well, if that wasn't a loaded question…It was better than asking 'what the hell's wrong with you?' That would just be a loaded question with ten tons of ammo to back it up.

Quinn nodded slowly, eyes fixed on her fork. "I'm fine."

Pssht. Alright. No more games. Rachel set her fork down purposefully and folded her hands in front of her.

"You're not fine."

Quinn looked up at her with those same dull eyes. She seemed ready to protest, but Rachel shook her head slightly and cut her off.

"Something's wrong, honey. I know it, I can tell. And you can tell me what it is, but you can't just keep acting like this-this…" Rachel couldn't even think of a word. This normal person? This shell of who you were? Rachel had been speaking softly and kindly, and she just waited for Quinn to respond.

"There's nothing _wrong_, Rachel." Quinn said quietly.

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Then what's _different_? Did something happen? Did you change something for me, because Quinn-"

"I'm better now." Quinn interrupted, slightly louder than before.

Rachel looked at her. Quinn's hands were in her lap, but she maintained eye contact. Rachel really couldn't see anything through the glaze.

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked.

Quinn clenched her jaw and looked away, before exhaling deeply and looking down at her almost-whole burger.

"My medication is making me better." She murmured.

Rachel had no idea what to say. She chose to sit there with her mouth slightly open, gawking like a fool. She processed this after a few moments.

"You're-you're taking medication again?"

Quinn nodded shortly but didn't offer any words.

"Well, what are you taking?" Rachel asked. For all she knew, medication could be aspirin. Hell, coffee was her medication.

Quinn looked pained. Rachel felt inexplicably relieved, only slightly, because the fidgeting, uncomfortable Quinn across from her was more like real-Quinn.

"Rachel, it doesn't-"

Rachel held up her hand. "No, Quinn, tell me what you take." She said calmly. Her eyes weren't unkind, but she wasn't fucking kidding around here. Medication wasn't bad, if it was _necessary_.

Quinn sighed. Rachel couldn't see what the woman's hands were doing under the table; if they were doing the same thing as Rachel's, then there would be half-moon welts in both of their forearms the next morning.

"I used to take Ritalin." Quinn started. Rachel had to lean halfway across the table, so her hair dipped in the tray of butter, to be able to hear. "But now it's Adderall…Plus Ativan, which is anti-seizure…"

Well, shit. Rachel's jaw dropped. "You, wait, you have-"

"The Adderall's given me seizures before. Ativan's just a precaution." Okay, Quinn seemed completely detached now. She sounded tired.

Rachel didn't say anything for a full minute, and then her eyes landed on Quinn's burger. "Plus nausea." She stated. It wasn't even a question.

Quinn nodded slightly. "Ativan does that." She said quietly.

Rachel was flabbergasted. Rachel Berry did not get flabbergasted by anything. She believed it was a ridiculous word, but…It was perfect for what she was feeling now. Fucking flabbergasted. And, God, was she having a heart attack? It felt like God Himself was squeezing at her heart.

"Why do you take any of it?" She blurted loudly, eyes wide. "Quinn, you don't-you were fine without it!"

Quinn shook her head and smiled slightly. "Rachel, you don't even-"

"Don't tell me I don't know you." Rachel stated a little angrily. This was just ridiculous.

"Well, you-you really don't. Look, I talked to my aunt again a couple days ago, and she's right." Quinn started rapidly.

Okay, Rachel needed to hire a hit-man and look up the last name of Quinn's goddamned bitch aunt.

"If I continue how I was, I'll just-I just drive people away. I'll get fired, and I'll-I'll lose you, and I won't have any money, and I won't get to see Barnaby again-"

"Quinn, there's nothing fucking wrong with you!" Rachel half-yelled. She sunk down a little when a few people glanced in their direction, but didn't take her eyes off the wreck happening in front of her.

Quinn shook her head rapidly, but said nothing. She was breathing a little heavier now. Rachel wondered if pushing her over the edge would be a good thing.

"Tell me why you take them!" Rachel persisted. She briefly wondered where her tact had gone.

"Rachel, there's so much- I have an anxiety disorder, okay! A real one, that gives me panic attacks so I make a fool out of myself every other day. I'm hyperactive. I probably have ADHD, and, oh, I never play Scrabble with you because I'm dyslexic on top of that. I only got into Columbia because all I did when I lived with my aunt and in the foster home was read, Rachel." Quinn's eyes were glistening. Rachel couldn't look away. "It's all I could do because people don't like me! I'm-I'm weird and childish and immature. I can't handle being around people, and they just make fun of me for it! I'm a-"Quinn's voice cracked and she let out a whine, "I'm just-I don't want to lose you because you think I'm crazy. The medication makes me better. People-people just let me be. They aren't so mean."

Quinn finished and stared hard down at her plate. Blonde hair covered her face, but Rachel could see tears landing on the pitiful steakburger. God, remember when cows were the worst of her problems. Rachel could be mistaken for a fucking statue right now. She just stared, mouth open, tears filling her own eyes. Because, geez, this was so much more than she expected. And holy crap, that hand around her heart was about to make it split in half.

She had absolutely no idea what to say. Really, her mind was blank, only processing the tears falling more rapidly onto Quinn's plate, the slight shaking of Quinn's shoulders. Fuck, the only thing her mind was telling her to do was hug her. That wasn't even her mind telling her to do that. It was her damn pressurized heart.

Rachel's body moved itself out of her side of the booth and slid in next to Quinn, ignoring the eavesdropping assholes who thought they were getting a free show with dinner.

"Quinn, honey." She said gently, and God her voice was shaky. Even shakier than her hands. Quinn flinched when Rachel tried to wrap her arm around her shoulders. Rachel backed off. She didn't want to make Quinn even more uncomfortable, if that was possible.

"Let's go home, honey, okay?" Rachel said softly, rubbing the tears out of her own eyes.

The only indication that Quinn heard Rachel was the slightly deeper breath she took.

Rachel slid out of the booth and Quinn followed slowly, wrapping her arms around herself and not letting Rachel take her hand. Rachel led the way out of the restaurant and into the taxi, Quinn following closely behind, sniffling but breathing deeper. The ride home was silent, and Rachel had nearly unraveled her whole sleeve with a single string by the time they arrived.

When they walked through the door, Quinn went straight to her bedroom. She opened the door once when Barnaby scratched at it, and then again five minutes later when Cornelius flung his fluffy puppy body at the door handle.

Rachel had been standing in the living room the whole time. She had no fucking idea what to do with herself. God, she wanted to climb into Quinn's bed and hug the woman until everything was okay. But the last thing Rachel wanted to do was scare her, or push her further over that goddamned edge. She sighed and finally went to bed, pulling Fuzzy out of the closet and burying her face in Cuddles' mane.

Well, she was right. This night definitely ended in tears.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel found that it was hard to sleep when you were crying your eyes out. An hour later, and Cuddles was soaked through, which was, yeah, slightly gross. Her heart wanted to go to Quinn, and her mind was in no fucking state to make any sort of decision right now, so she shut it off, got out of bed, and made her way to Quinn's room. She opened the door slowly with Cuddles and Fuzzy dangling from one of her hands, and stepped inside carefully.

Rachel could hear uneven breathing and sniffling coming from one of the three dark masses on the bed, and she moved over and sat on the side that wasn't occupied. Quinn was on her side facing the wall, and Rachel leaned over carefully to place Fuzzy right against Quinn's chest. She watched Quinn immediately hug him to her, and then Rachel lay back against the pillow with her feet on Barnaby, who took up a good half of the bed. Rachel listened as Quinn's crying quieted and the pipes groaned overhead.

After about five minutes, Quinn rolled over to face Rachel, who lolled her head to the right to see her. Quinn scooted closer and hesitantly wrapped an arm around her torso, squishing all the stuffed animals between their bodies. Rachel angled herself to the right and wrapped her arms around Quinn so the woman would relax. She brushed some hair out of Quinn's eyes and smiled when the blonde sighed.

"I don't want you to let anyone pull you out of the clouds, Quinn." Rachel said softly into jellybean-scented blonde hair.

Quinn shifted impossibly closer and removed one of her arms from Rachel to rub at her eyes, before putting it back. "You make it better." She sniffled.

Rachel smiled slightly and absently hummed "Hushabye Mountain" from _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang_. She kissed Quinn's head as the blonde's breathing evened, and Rachel fell asleep soon after. At least her heart no longer felt like it was in a vice grip. Now it just fluttered with every warm breath against her neck.

Rachel awoke in the morning when Barnaby shifted and bulldozed over her legs to get off the bed, followed by Cornelius. She and Quinn were in the exact same positions as when they fell asleep, which was odd because Quinn usually slept like a starfish. Rachel looked down at the mop of blonde hair on her chest and Quinn's beautiful face, flushed, peaceful, and worry-free.

Rachel reached a hand up and ran it through Quinn's messy hair, glancing at the window and registering that it was raining outside. Quinn shifted and blinked her eyes open, and Rachel watched with a small smile as the blonde regained her bearings.

"Good morning." Rachel said softly. Quinn rolled a little and rested her chin on Rachel's chest, looking up into warm brown eyes.

"How are you feeling?" Rachel asked, tapping Quinn's cheeks with one of her hands. Quinn's eyes darted away and she bit her lip. Rachel watched pale fingers start to tap against the sheets.

"Hey." Rachel said, waiting for Quinn to meet her eyes again before continuing. "Just know, nothing's changed, okay. Last night-well, thank you for telling me. About everything. I'm still here, I'm still your girlfriend, and Barnaby will force you to see him every day for the rest of his life because that's just what you do to people." Rachel grinned when Quinn smiled a little, ears turning pink. "And there's absolutely no getting out of it, big bear."

Quinn smiled fully and turned her head so that her cheek rested on Rachel's chest.

"Maybe," Rachel continued more cautiously, "we could talk to somebody…professional. Or you could talk to me. Just so you're more…comfortable, day to day."

Quinn was silent for a moment, but nodded slightly against Rachel's chest. Rachel decided to leave it at that, and stayed silent, running her fingers through Quinn's hair.

"Go back to sleep, Rach." Quinn mumbled. "It's still dark out; you're crazy to be awake."

Rachel chuckled. Of course. Of course she was fucking crazy, man.

When Rachel woke up again she was alone, and she panicked for a minute before looking at Quinn's clock and realizing, dear God it was almost noon. She was seconds away from leaping frantically out of bed to start her day, but then she realized, what's the rush? Rachel relaxed again and glanced around Quinn's hoarder-mess of a room.

She looked at Quinn's pillow, which actually had Pongo from _101 Dalmatians_ on it, and smiled. She moved her head to that pillow and breathed in the gummy bear smell, just as the door opened.

Oh, shit, what? No, no she wasn't being creepy. Not at all.

Quinn stood uncertainly in the doorway. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." She said.

Rachel shook her head. She felt like she'd been caught in a scandalous act, and surreptitiously pushed Pongo back to Quinn's side of the bed.

"No, I was just getting up anyway." Rachel said. And smelling your pillow. She then noticed that Quinn was soaking wet. She had soap bubbles in her hair, her shirt was disheveled, and her pants were drenched from the knee down. Rachel's first thought was that Quinn had to rescue Barnaby from Central Park's freshwater man-eating pond sharks again. Then she realized that Quinn was tracking water everywhere.

"Quinn! What did you do?" Rachel climbed out of bed and walked towards Quinn; she didn't want to get too close until she was sure it wasn't, you know, toxic or something.

Quinn opened her mouth to respond as Barnaby and Cornelius came bounding in to the bedroom, sopping wet, and onto the bed. Rachel's eyes widened, but she reined herself in. This was not her bedroom. She could control herself. Right.

"I-I took them for their walk," Quinn started, fidgeting with her hands in front of her. "And they-they went and rolled in a mud puddle. Like, a huge one. I mean, it was really cool-I wanted-"

"Quinn!" Rachel interrupted with an exasperated smile. "I know you wanted to roll in the mud puddle. What happened next?"

They just looked so…clean. It was disconcerting.

Quinn flushed and smiled as she realized Rachel wasn't angry. Psshht, of course Rachel couldn't be angry with the little drowned blonde in front of her. She was like a stray. On a doorstep. On a rainy Christmas Eve.

"So I gave them baths, and they, um, escaped before I could- I was gonna blow dry their fur, but…"

Rachel narrowed her eyes as she caught a scent in the air. Her jaw dropped.

"Did you use my shampoo?" she exclaimed.

Quinn bit her lip and took a few steps into the room in her rush to explain. "Yeah. I-I-We don't have dog shampoo, and I like-I like how you smell…" Quinn frowned like this was coming out all wrong. Rachel tried to contain her laughter. Yeah, who's the creeper now? "And I thought it would be cool-or, like, nice if he smelled…like you." Quinn scrunched up her face.

Rachel snorted and closed the distance between them. She stood right in front of Quinn and took in the clear, bright eyes with a grin. Quinn watched her, face flushed, playing with the hem of her messed up shirt. Rachel ruffled Quinn's hair, getting rid of the bubbles, and Quinn ducked her head. All the way to Rachel's lips. Quinn smiled into the kiss and wrapped Rachel up in a sopping embrace.

Rachel moaned, half annoyed, half turned on. Sure, she'd thought a little bit about a naked Quinn, because, seriously, it was _Quinn_, she just never spoke those thoughts aloud because she didn't want to push. These wet clothes were not leaving a lot to the imagination.

Rachel was getting soaked, but a little water wasn't enough reason for her to pull away. Barnaby and Cornelius shooting past them and into the hall to wreak havoc in her own bedroom, however, yeah, she needed to stop this. Rachel pulled away and went to follow them, but caught sight of the living room, and Jesus Christ, what the hell had happened? There were suds everywhere, wet spots along the sides of all the furniture where the dogs had rubbed, random pools of water waiting to injure any of them.

Rachel sighed.

Ice cream melting on the counter.

But, God, she had to fucking smile. This was all Quinn's doing. Real Quinn. _Her_ Quinn.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Just FYI, Quinn's birthday continues into the next chapter.

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 11: Like Being in Love, She Said for the First Time**

Rachel was awoken the next morning when she subconsciously realized she was being blinded by the sun. Something had pulled back her curtains, and she blearily opened her eyes to investigate when, oh God, some sort of mammal jumped on her legs. A 5'6" mammal with messy blonde hair and an excited grin on her face. Rachel groaned and buried her face in her pillow. Too. Fucking. Early.

"Rachel." Quinn said, bouncing up and down a little. Rachel didn't respond.

"Raaaaachel."

Rachel smiled into her pillow and shifted her legs around, trying to knock Quinn off.

"Rachel, it's my birthday! You have to play with me." Quinn proclaimed, pulling the covers half-off Rachel's body.

Rachel spoke directly into her pillow. "I know, honey. Happy birthday. I'll be more enthusiastic after eight a.m." And coffee. And when she's not being blinded by the sun. And sat on by her girlfriend. And dogs.

Quinn pouted and pulled back the covers until she could reach one of Rachel's feet. She ran her fingers over the bottom as Rachel squirmed to get away and then grabbed the big toe.

"This little piggy went to market." Quinn said softly. Rachel grinned into her pillow, slobbering all over it and suffocating herself, but whatever.

"This little piggy stayed home." Quinn continued. Rachel could feel hazel eyes on her and she tried not to react outwardly. It was futile, because she'd never met anybody more ticklish than herself.

Rachel could hear the smile in Quinn's voice. "This little piggy had roast beef." Rachel actually grimaced. Okay, move on the next piggy. Her dads used to change the line to 'this little piggy had vegan lasagna,' but, yeah, most people realized that was absolutely fucking ridiculous.

"This little piggy had none." Well, aww. That wasn't much happier. Quinn paused to build anticipation after that, and Rachel tried not to asphyxiate herself with her pillow.

"And this little piggy…" Quinn held her pinky toe gently and Rachel tried to prepare her body. Relax your muscles. Breathe. Don't pee yourself.

"Went wee wee wee all the way home!" Quinn exclaimed, tickling along Rachel's feet, and then pouncing up the bed and continuing along her torso. Rachel was successful with only one of her three goals. She managed not to pee herself. Thank God.

Rachel rolled around, turning bright red because she couldn't fucking breathe and she was oxygen deprived from having her face pressed into her pillow for so long. She accidentally kicked an excited Barnaby off the bed, and tried to choke out some kind of surrender through her laughter.

Quinn finally stopped and just laid like dead weight on top of Rachel. Rachel tried to school her features to look angry, but, yeah, that definitely wasn't happening. She seemed to have lost all conscious control of her facial muscles.

"Quuiiinn." She whined until the woman rolled off of her and sat cross-legged next to her head. Rachel stared up at Quinn for a moment and then just smiled again because the blonde was a complete mess with a massive grin.

"Happy birthday Quinn." Rachel said, slightly more enthusiastically than before. She shifted up on her elbows and puckered her lips like a child. "Give me a birthday kiss."

Quinn happily obliged, and Rachel ran her hand through the tangled blonde mess on her girlfriend's head in a futile attempt to smooth it out.

"So, I have big plans for us today, sweetheart." Rachel said as Quinn pulled back.

Quinn looked surprised; she stared at Rachel hopefully. "You made plans?"

Rachel tilted her head. "Of course!"

Her wonderful, magnificent plans that she was incredibly proud of and incredibly modest about when she told every single one of her friends yesterday. Except Quinn. Of course.

"And you'll love them, but we need to brush your hair first, and get dressed, and have breakfast."

Quinn was wide-eyed, and she nodded excitedly before scrambling off the bed and thundering out of the room and into the hall. Rachel watched her go fondly, then chuckled as she reappeared in the doorway.

"What should I wear?" Quinn asked worriedly.

Rachel eyed the red fuzzy reindeer pajama pants Quinn had on. In March. "Just something warm, honey. Nothing fancy."

Quinn nodded vigorously, turned and sped back to her own room.

Rachel was dressed and making breakfast by the time Quinn emerged in jeans and a sweater, hair brushed and eyes bright. She wasn't so much making breakfast as making a huge fucking mess in the kitchen to get a few pancakes out of it.

"Breakfast m'lady?" Rachel asked as Quinn sat at one of the bar stools.

"Chocolate chip pancakes?" Quinn asked, obviously in awe of this wonderful food of the gods. Rachel nodded brightly. She was even using real chocolate.

Rachel flipped a pancake, knocking a package of powdered sugar to the floor, as her phone rang.

"Can you get that please, Quinn?" Rachel asked, starting to clean up what looked like a cloud of cocaine before they all inhaled it and died. Quinn looked at her with nervous eyes.

"Please, honey." Rachel held up her white hands to show how incapacitated she was. Plus, Barnaby and Cornelius were tackling her to reach the sugary goodness. She watched Quinn out of the corner of her eye.

"Hello." Quinn said quietly, her other hand playing with the snap on the dog leash sitting on the counter.

Quinn nodded shortly. "Yeah. I'll get her. Hold on please." Quinn held the phone out as Rachel washed her hands and Barnaby licked the now clean floor.

Rachel raised her eyebrows.

"It's the place you called yesterday." Quinn explained quietly.

"This is Rachel Berry." Rachel said, keeping her eyes fixed on Quinn's. After making sure her pancakes hadn't caught fire.

"Hi Rachel. This is Madison Family Psychology. We got your message, and we'd love to set up a session for you and your girlfriend sometime. It would be sort of a get-to-know-you sort of session, before you decide if you'd like to return. If that sounds okay, our first opening is the day after tomorrow. Wednesday morning."

Rachel covered the mouthpiece so she could consult with Quinn. "Is Wednesday morning good for you, Quinn?" she asked gently.

Quinn nodded slowly and Rachel smiled reassuringly at her before uncovering the phone. "Wednesday's great for us." She said, and then pulled a pouch of gummy bears out of the cookie jar and set them in front of Quinn. Positive reinforcement. Reward. Whatever, she just knew Quinn would love some gummy bears with breakfast.

"Can you give them whipped cream smiley faces?" Quinn asked when Rachel hung up and returned to the pancakes. Rachel chuckled and grabbed the Reddi Whip from the fridge.

"And strawberry eyes?"

Rachel was already reaching for the box of strawberries.

"And powdered sugar hair?"

Well, Jesus, Rachel would be making a whole civilization out of the pancakes and toppings.

"And Hershey's Syrup limbs?"

Rachel scrunched up nose and turned to face her grinning girlfriend.

"You know, if I add all that stuff, I'm going to make you eat at least ten pancakes, and then you'll spend all day vomiting and whining, so, just take that into account before you mess with me, Fabray." Rachel tried to look scolding. She was not successful.

Quinn spoke around the gummy bears in her mouth. "I wanted to see how much you'd actually do for me."

"I'll do it all." Rachel replied automatically, spraying chocolate syrup along the floor. Well, God, that came out a little dramatically and loaded with an inordinate amount of meaning. She really was referring to breakfast foods. She flushed and tried to stop Cornelius from eating the chocolate that would _kill him_.

"Well, then I want one with gummy worm hair as well." Quinn said. Rachel could see she was flushing too, and tapping her fingers along the top of the bar, but Rachel smiled and happily obliged.

She managed to make six acceptable pancakes, that weren't raw on the inside or flaming on the outside, and decided to leave the mess for her friends to clean up later. Right now, she had birthday plans to execute.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel was having major problems controlling herself as she stared at Quinn's face, looking at the sign over the gates for the Central Park Zoo. Quinn looked like she was meeting God himself. Rachel looked like she was having some sort of epileptic attack as she attempted to rein in her laughter.

Quinn turned to look at her after a good four minutes. "We get to go in there?" She asked disbelievingly.

Rachel was going to say 'no, I just brought you here to see the outside,' but then she remembered that she wasn't a heartless asshole, and nodded excitedly.

"Of course! Come on!" Rachel seized Quinn's hand, fully intent on dragging her forward, but Quinn rushed up ahead and ended up pulling Rachel along behind her, for about three feet until they reached the ticket booth. Then Quinn halted abruptly and moved back behind Rachel.

Rachel tilted her head. She didn't want to be too proactive in making any, you know, psychological evaluations before their first session, because that would just end in disaster, but maybe Quinn could use a little push. Just to function more with strangers. Of course, the last time she'd pushed had been, well, that had gone terribly awry.

"Welcome to the zoo!" A chirpy teenager proclaimed from the booth. "How many?"

Rachel shoveled through her purse for her card, feigning distraction. Well, not feigning anymore, because, seriously, where was her fucking card?

Quinn hesitantly stepped up after a few moments. "Um, two please." She said quietly through the voice box. Rachel smiled to herself.

"Do you have any discount codes or handicapped needs?" The boy asked as Rachel finally fished her card out from the depths of her bag.

"No." Quinn said, bouncing up on the balls of her feet. Rachel handed the card over and waited for their tickets. She was pleasantly surprised when Quinn spoke again. Maybe her strategy was successful.

"Do you have lions?" Quinn asked bluntly, still tipping forward and backward on her feet.

The boy shook his head. "We do have a snow leopard, though."

Quinn's face fell and she looked at Rachel. Rachel bit her tongue to prevent any inappropriate public displays of affection from taking control of her body. She looked at the ticket guy.

"You have bears, right?"

He nodded vigorously, eager to please. "Yeah, we have polar bears."

Quinn's head whipped back to him as he said that, and Rachel smiled and took their tickets with a quick thank you. As soon as they were through the gates, Quinn turned to face her.

"Can we go see the polar bears first?" she asked excitedly, swinging their hands between them.

Rachel laughed. "Quinn, honey, it's your birthday. Stop asking me. We can do whatever you want."

This is how Rachel found herself clinging tightly to Quinn's arm outside the polar bear enclosure in an attempt to prevent Quinn from accidentally flinging herself over the barrier. Oh God, what if she was serious about wanting to hug a bear? Rachel had to admit, they were ridiculously fluffy. She just didn't want to be one of those reckless, idiotic tourists who watched their girlfriends descend into animal enclosures, get mauled, and die. No, she would not end up on YouTube like that. It would be horrible for her career.

After about half an hour of watching the bears sleep, Rachel made Quinn sit down on one of the benches. She tried not to seem bored, but seriously, they just-they weren't moving. Rachel needed stimulation to survive.

"Have you been to a zoo before, Quinn?" She asked curiously. Quinn would entertain her.

Quinn shook her head without taking her eyes off the animals. Rachel was surprised; her girlfriend was good enough to be a fucking zookeeper.

"Why not?"

Again, Quinn just shrugged, focused on the bears. Rachel smiled fondly at her.

"Honey, with words, please."

Quinn looked at her for a second, then put an arm around Rachel and stared back at the enclosure.

"It's not just the zoo. I didn't really-I haven't really gone anywhere. Anywhere cool."

Rachel narrowed her eyes because, really, they lived in fucking New York. "Nowhere? At all?" she clarified.

Quinn shook her head vaguely. Rachel sighed. She wondered how much she should ask, or could ask, without causing some sort of…attack. She decided to go for it, because Quinn was distracted with the polar bear, which, you know, it could be good. Or horrible. And, God, she was getting bored.

"Do you have any siblings?" Rachel asked, grasping onto the hand that Quinn had wrapped around her shoulders.

Quinn shook her head.

"Quinn, please, words." Rachel said with a half-smile, poking Quinn in the ribs.

Quinn met her eyes briefly and smiled softly. "No, I was an only child."

Well, this was a brilliant direction to take the conversation in, Rachel. The only places she could go now were dead parents, foster families, and traumatizing, bitch aunts. Rachel decided not to pursue this line of questioning.

She started anew.

"If you were a fruit, which one would you be?" Pssht, that was totally a psychologist-type question. Rachel was a pro at this.

"A peach." Quinn replied instantaneously. Well, geez, she didn't even have to think about it. Rachel wondered if it was a good sign that her girlfriend already knew exactly which kind of fruit she was. She figured yeah, it was good to be prepared.

"I'd be a strawberry. Or a lime." Rachel said, though Quinn didn't appear to be listening. She decided to plow right on anyway, the true Rachel Berry way.

"If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?" She asked, playing with Quinn's fingers.

"Wherever you are." Quinn replied absently, tracking the bears with bright hazel eyes. She didn't seem to realize that Rachel had lost all bodily control as soon as she'd said that.

Because, really, Rachel was struggling to breathe. God, her heart was hurting. Was she dying? She stared at the side of Quinn's oblivious head like she was trying to look through her ear into the workings of Quinn's brain. She'd probably find a ball of cotton candy in there. Or a teddy bear.

"Oh my God." Rachel squeaked out of her uncooperative throat. Dammit body, don't fail now.

Quinn looked at her, expression morphing from contentment to concern. "Are you okay?"

No. She was not.

Rachel stared into worried hazel eyes. "You're so…" she sighed. Fucking speechless. This was unprecedented and unacceptable. Control yourself. Rein it in. Rachel made a decision. "I want to give you your present now."

Quinn looked surprised. "I thought-I thought you being my girlfriend was my present…remember?"

Rachel smiled and put her hands on Quinn's flushed cheeks. "I got you a real present, honey."

"This wasn't it?" Quinn gestured vaguely around them. God, didn't she listen?

"No, I got you a real one." Rachel said again, patiently waiting for Quinn to focus.

Quinn grinned and leaned forward, glancing around like it was hidden in the exhibit or something. Whoa, that's exactly what Rachel should've done. Hidden it in the exhibit. Well, now she was disappointed in herself for not thinking of that earlier.

"Where is it? What is it?" Quinn asked excitedly.

Rachel reached into her purse full of crap as Quinn watched. She dug around for a few minutes-God, she really needed to clean this bag-and emerged with the first part of Quinn's present. A box of Zebra Cakes for lunch. Rachel had lost a little piece of her soul when buying them.

Quinn gasped like Rachel had pulled out the royal crown. She took the box eagerly and Rachel laughed as she was pulled into a bear hug. Quinn kissed the side of her head.

"I love these. Thank you, little bear."

Rachel pulled back and straightened out Quinn's coat collar with a smile. "Hold on, Quinn. I didn't just get you a box of junk food. There's something else."

Quinn looked up at her expectantly, seconds away from biting into a zebra cake. Rachel stilled her hand. Now or never.

"Quinn, before I give you this, I want to say something. And just…just focus, okay?"

Quinn's eyes locked onto Rachel's determinedly. Rachel smiled and searched for the vocabulary she was sure she'd possessed two seconds ago. Really, there was no way to drag this out…Well, yeah there was, but Rachel's mind had blanked, so…short and sweet.

"I love you, Quinn." Rachel stated. Not exactly calmly, but…confidently. It hadn't taken her long to realize, but it was true, and she was sure. Quinn was sort of a happy mess, and Rachel wanted to help her with her problems and be there for everything else.

Wait. She did say it out loud, right? Because those gorgeous hazel eyes were just staring at her, and…Oh God, it was all a dream. Rachel was seconds away from flinging herself into the bear enclosure when she realized Quinn's eyes were shining.

"You don't need to say anything, you know, back, Quinn." Rachel hurriedly assured. "And-and I wanted to give you this. It's your other present." She held the box out towards Quinn, but it went completely ignored. The _Zebra Cakes_ had received a better welcome than that.

God, those eyes were boring into her soul. Rachel waited for Quinn to speak. Waited fucking years. And years.

"Are-are you sure?" Quinn finally asked. Rachel smiled softly at her teary eyes. And sort of in relief. She wasn't completely delusional.

"Wait, you are Quinn Fabray, right? Oh God, did I just tell the wrong person?" Rachel chuckled lightly and nudged Quinn in the shoulder reassuringly.

Quinn was still staring at her. Her expression didn't change.

"I love you too." Quinn finally breathed out.

God, Rachel was just a soggy ball of mush. Seriously. Pull your goddamned self together. She did feel slightly victorious though, that she actually took a step in their relationship before Quinn. Really, she had no idea what her feelings were doing right now. Quinn was still staring at her.

Rachel felt like she was being x-rayed, so she leaned over and kissed Quinn on the lips. Magically. Lovingly. Sloppily. Quinn reciprocated, and then put her hands on either side of Rachel's head until they were full-on making out. The zebra cakes fell to the ground.

A minute later some women with strollers and snotty, whiny children went walking by, clearing their throats very unsubtly.

Rachel pulled back, licked her lips, and extracted her hand from blonde hair, glad to see Quinn smiling now. Just beaming. She handed Quinn the box, and put her hands on her own cheeks to cool her face off. She was just fucking flaming. Quinn opened it and pulled out a necklace with two charms on it: a big bear and a little bear. Really, it was a mama bear and a cub, because that's what the jewelry store called it, but Rachel preferred not to think of it that way because…just. No.

Quinn never had to know about that. She was wide-eyed as she looked at Rachel again.

"Rachel, this is perfect. I love it!" Quinn exclaimed.

Rachel grinned, reaching for the necklace so that she could clasp it around Quinn's neck. "Really? Because that's what you said about the Zebra Cakes…"

Quinn looked like she was on the precipice of some kind of breakdown, so Rachel just leaned forward and pulled her into a hug and held her for a minute.

It was another _three hours_ before they left the polar bear exhibit. The bears never even woke up.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I don't know what games FF has been playing the last couple days, but if you're reading this, congrats! You've accessed the new chapter! And again, thanks everyone so much for reading and reviewing.

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 12: What You Said is Ringing, Ringing Faster**

Rachel's feet were killing her. She hadn't known it was possible to do so much walking in a seven acre zoo. Well, now it wasn't so much walking as drunken-like, stilted toddling in boots that were making her feet bleed. Quinn kept leading her around though, to the penguins and the snow leopard, so Rachel kept a genuine smile on her face and a hand clasped around her girlfriend's. She'd walk until her legs fucking gave out. It really seemed inevitable at this point.

The sun was setting as Quinn finally turned to her outside the red panda enclosure and asked if she was ready to go. Rachel tried not to leap at the opportunity, and shifted around in her boots a little before realizing that, holy mother of God, that was the most painful thing she's ever experienced.

"I'm ready if you are." She replied weakly, smiling up at Quinn. Quinn nodded, and Rachel bought her a stuffed polar bear, which they named Puffin, on the way out.

"Are you okay, Rachel?" Quinn asked, looking down at her as they began their walk home.

Definitely not.

Rachel realized she was swerving around like a drunken fool in her boots, and Quinn steadied her with an arm around the shoulders.

"My feet hurt." Rachel admitted. That was an understatement. She really had to stop walking; this was just not working. Boots weren't supposed to make your toes feel like they were _broken_.

"Do you want a piggy-back?" Quinn asked concernedly and completely seriously, already bending over a little so that Rachel could climb onto her back. Rachel laughed and turned her back around.

"No, no, honey. Just-let me take my shoes off." Rachel said. She bent down, holding onto Quinn's shoulder for support, and oh God, finally her feet were free. Free at last. It was like…it was like being born. Rebirth. Just amazing.

Rachel sighed in relief and started walking along the sidewalk in her wooly socks. Her wooly yellow socks with sheep on them. She smiled at the people walking in the opposite direction, like 'yeah, you wish you had these socks.' Quinn followed, watching her feet carefully.

"Is that better?" Quinn queried. "Should I get a cab?"

Rachel took Quinn's hand and swung it between them happily. "So much better." She assured.

Quinn nodded and bit her lip. "Let's play a game." She said after walking a few blocks.

Rachel looked up at her and raised her eyebrows. She was starting to realize that walking this far would actually _ruin_ her wonderful socks.

Quinn glanced around them as they walked, and then down at the sidewalk. "Okay, the sidewalk and the road are lava. You have to stay on the curb and the white crosswalk stripes to stay alive."

Oh, shit. Challenge accepted. Rachel Berry would not succumb to lava. She immediately started balancing along the curb. Quinn seemed surprised that she had gone along with it, but grinned excitedly and hopped in front of Rachel. Rachel grabbed the back of her coat belt for balance, and smiled to herself as Quinn reached back absently to offer a hand instead.

Rachel only let go when her phone buzzed, and she answered it as she skipped across the white stripes on the road behind Quinn.

**Kurt**: Are you coming home soon? I think we're early. And I don't think Santana actually knows how to make this cake. Is Quinn having fun? Will you come and rescue me from these people please?

**Santana**: BERRY YOUR FUCKING DOG IS FUCKING INSANE. And how do you preheat your oven?

**Brittany**: Rachel, Tubby attacked your puppy and now he won't come out from under your bed

Rachel narrowed her eyes as she balanced along the curb and prepared to respond to these ridiculous people who were supposed to be at her apartment making Quinn a cake. Apparently they were likely to burn the house down and kill her dogs instead.

**Rachel:** Kurt, we're on our way. Make sure S doesn't poison us please. Yes. And Yes.

**Rachel: **Santana, stay away from my dogs. And it's the knob on the far right.

Rachel wondered if Brittany meant Tubby was under the bed, or if it was Cornelius. She needed to clarify her pronouns. Rachel tried to type out a response as she wrapped herself around a light pole like a stripper, trying to stay on the curb. Yeah, she looked like a fool, but at least she wasn't dying in the lava.

Quinn was striding through some bushes a few paces ahead of her. And flowers. Dear God.

**Rachel: **Britt, just leave him under there. He'll come out on his own.

**Santana**: Got it. Oh yeah, and I tasted that vegan shit and vomited a little, so the cake's normal person style. Ok? ;)

Rachel nearly stepped off the curb into the path of an oncoming bus. Fuck. This was like survival training.

**Rachel: **FINE I WON'T HAVE ANY. JUST MAKE SURE IT TASTES GOOD.

**Santana**: STOP YELLING. And duh. How do you use your blender?

God, what even-no. Stay calm. Rachel groaned and then smiled forcefully when Quinn looked over her shoulder to see if she was still following. Yeah, she was, as of right now. Soon she'd be flattened on a city street, though.

**Rachel: **WHATEVER YOU'RE PLANNING, YOU DON'T NEED THE BLENDER. WE'LL BE THERE IN FIVE MINUTES IF WE AREN'T HIT BY A BUS OR ARRESTED FOR INADVERTENT PARCOUR. KEEP BRITTANY'S CAT AWAY FROM MY DOGS.

**Santana**: lol. No. ;)

Rachel made it to the doorway of their building right behind Quinn, after executing some maneuvers of gymnastic brilliance to remain on the curb and the white stripes. She was proud of herself. Quinn seemed proud too, if the kiss Rachel received right in front of the doorman was any indication.

Really though, all frustration just melted away. She stopped wondering why Santana seemed to have such problems working appliances and fretting about her ruined socks, and just let Quinn kiss her.

"I love you." Quinn said with a shy smile, playing with the cuffs of Rachel's coat.

"I love you too, honey." Rachel said, allowing Quinn to undo and re-button her cuffs. "And I have another surprise for you." Normally Rachel wouldn't tell people about surprise parties, of course, but…Quinn wasn't normal. And Quinn wasn't people. And Quinn would probably fling herself out the living room window to avoid things like that.

"What is it?" Quinn asked, wrapping her arms around Rachel's waist and gazing at her with bright eyes.

Rachel brushed some of the blonde hair out of her eyes. "Kurt, Santana, Puck, and Britt are in the apartment." Rachel felt Quinn stiffen a little. "_But _they're making a cake for you, and they won't be there long, okay. They just wanted to say happy birthday."

Quinn relaxed slightly and nodded. "That's okay. I…I like cake. And them. If they-if they wanted to stay longer…"

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "You wouldn't mind that?

Quinn shook her head hesitantly. Rachel smiled up at her and leaned up to kiss Quinn on the cheek. "One step at a time, hmm." She said quietly in Quinn's ear.

As they exited the elevator, Rachel was pleased to not be met with clouds of smoke. Or screaming. Or rampant pets in the hallway. It was completely silent. Quinn shifted behind her slightly as they walked through the front door, and Rachel was surprised when nobody-

"SURPRISE!" Brittany yelled, leaping out of the hall closet and knocking Rachel backwards into Quinn. Even when she was expecting it, her heart fucking stopped.

"Happy birthday, Quinn!" Brittany squealed. She slithered around Rachel to give Quinn a quick, tight hug and stepped back immediately so Quinn could have her space. Rachel watched, as she diagnosed herself with a now-permanent heart arrhythmia. Brittany was just an intuitive beast, knowing exactly how to deal with people.

Kurt came sauntering into the entryway with Cornelius in his arms, greeting Rachel with a hug and Quinn with a bright smile. He handed the puppy to her.

Oh God. He must've destroyed something.

"He missed you, birthday girl. I think Tubby was tormenting him. Or Tubby's in love with him, which, I don't know, gay, cross-species romance isn't destined to work out, right."

Probably not, but it was better than having to replace all the wiring behind the TV when Barnaby chewed it a few months ago.

Quinn crouched down to rub Barnaby's tummy, and set Cornelius down at the same time. Rachel was still wondering if she would need to see a cardiologist. She managed to drag Quinn into the living room, where Puck greeted her with a wave and a "happy birthday."

"Rachel, where's your food coloring?" Santana called from the kitchen.

Rachel twisted on the couch and narrowed her eyes. "Whatever you're doing doesn't require food coloring." She replied.

"You don't know what the fuck I'm doing, Berry. Just be grateful, because you'll love it. Tell me where your damn food coloring is."

Rachel watched Quinn tug at the rubber band on her wrist, and she reached out to gently take it off of her. "Santana, stop swearing." She called into the kitchen.

Quinn clasped her hands in her lap.

Normally, if Rachel told Santana to stop swearing, Santana would find a legitimate way to use a swear word as every other word in her sentence. It really was brilliant, but Quinn would not appreciate it.

"I'm gonna ask one more time, Berry. Where. Is. Your. Food. Coloring?"

Rachel sighed exasperatedly, and Quinn put an arm around her. "Pantry. Top shelf."

Rachel registered some grumbling from the kitchen before it all fell silent again. Except for America's Funniest Videos on the TV. Puck was claiming after every other video that the exact same thing had happened to him. Rachel didn't find that too hard to believe, especially when one guy donned a dog shock collar and purposely barked to electrocute himself at each of the six levels. She just grinned and listened as Quinn laughed against her chest.

They were in the middle of watching Kurt make Barnaby dance like one of the dogs on the show, when the fire alarm went off. Not even the smoke detector; the building's fire alarm went off, like a fucking air raid siren. Rachel's first thought was that Santana was blowing something up, and she wasn't even a little bit surprised.

Santana looked through the breakfast bar into the living room at everybody with her hands up, totally innocent. Rachel didn't see any smoke, so it was probably somebody else in the building who pulled it, but God it was loud.

Quinn was actually quivering a little bit. She had her hands pressed roughly over her ears, like Puck and Kurt, but her eyes were shut as well. Rachel rubbed her back soothingly.

"Do we evacuate?" she yelled at Puck, because Kurt was too busy trying to escape the wrath of a terrified Tubby. Her eye's never left Quinn's face. Nothing like an air raid to spice up a birthday.

Puck shrugged. "It's your apartment." He shouted back.

Barnaby was trying to throw himself into Rachel's lap. Quinn started whining a little, and Rachel stood up and gestured for all the panicking bodies around her to do the same. Brittany came striding out of the kitchen with an angry-looking Santana, and she took Tubby from Kurt and headed to the door. Puck leashed Barnaby and Rachel held Cornelius so that Quinn wouldn't have to take her hands off her ears.

God, Santana was baking a cake in her kitchen and somebody else was the one to set off the fire alarm. Ridiculous.

Rachel kept a steady hand on Quinn's lower back to guide her down the hall, then the staircase, and out into the crowded lobby. Geez, Rachel had never seen half these people before. Did they all actually live here? Maybe she should be more observant. They all looked as pissed off as she felt. They could totally be best friends.

Rachel left her friends in the building and guided Quinn out into the cool air. Where it was quiet. And didn't feel like they were being bombed. She still held the squirmy, fluffy puppy in one arm, but used the other to put her hand over Quinn's, which still covered Quinn's ears.

Quinn made eye contact, and Rachel nodded reassuringly. "It's okay." She mouthed. Quinn slowly pulled her hands away from her ears. They could still hear the alarm in the background, but it wasn't, you know, blasting their damn eardrums out.

Quinn took a deep shaky breath, and Rachel reached up and ruffled her hair. Quinn ducked, tapping her hands on her thighs like drums.

Rachel held Cornelius out with a small, knowing smile and Quinn took him eagerly, running her hands through his black fur over and over.

"Well." Rachel said. "This is-"

"That's a lot worse than the pipes." Quinn blurted, looking back through the glass doors at the crowded lobby. Rachel wondered why none of them were actually evacuating. Were they idiots? Maybe she shouldn't try to be best friends with them. If there was an actual fire, they'd all die together because it was chilly outside. Then again, Rachel had contemplated not even leaving the apartment, so…who really took fire alarms seriously.

"Yes. Yes it is." Rachel replied simply. Quinn held Cornelius in one hand and wrapped her other arm around Rachel's shoulders, kissing Rachel on the head.

Rachel smiled up at her. "Better?"

Quinn nodded.

Rachel took her hand and started to drag her down the street. She seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time today walking down sidewalks in just her socks. She wondered why the hell she hadn't changed out of the disgusting sheep ones yet.

Quinn just went along with it, hugging the puppy to her chest and making sure Rachel didn't step out into the path of oncoming buses. Rachel didn't let up until they reached Midnight Cupcakes, a cupcakery open…all night. She turned and leaned up to kiss Quinn sweetly, and then Cornelius's head as well.

"Wait here a second, okay Quinn? They don't let dogs inside. Yell if you need anything."

Yeah, Rachel would only be, like, five feet away, but just to be sure. Quinn nodded, and Rachel went inside. The place was basically empty, which made sense because they mostly did deliveries. What idiot would actually leave their house after midnight to pick up some cupcakes?

Pssht, Rachel of course.

"Hi, how can we help you?" a girl behind the counter asked brightly.

Rachel smiled at her. "Hi. Can I have…a vegan vanilla cupcake, with strawberry icing and filling, and…a regular chocolate one, with peanut butter icing and filling, and gummy bears on top? Oh, and a birthday candle on that one, please. And one of those plastic rings."

The girl grinned at her and set to getting the order ready, and Rachel glanced out the window to see Quinn holding Cornelius tightly, nuzzling her face into his fur.

It might be gross if he was smelly or had fleas or something, but her animals were treated like kings, so…it was as sanitary as washing your hands. With puppy. Which would just be wonderful.

The cupcakes were ready after a few minutes, and Rachel stopped imagining puppies pouring out of her sink to persuade the girl to light the candle, by claiming that her building was on fire right now, and what were the chances she'd be in two buildings that caught fire on the same day. Watertight reasoning.

Rachel started singing as soon as she walked out the door. It was quiet and cool outside, and she sat down on a bench next to Quinn, scooting right up against her girlfriend for warmth.

_Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Quiiiinn, happy birthday to you._

Quinn looked surprised but delighted, and Rachel laughed as her eyes lit up when she caught sight of the gummy bears and blew the candle out eagerly. Rachel slid the plastic ring with Tigger on it on Quinn's hand, and Quinn spent a good minute just grinning at it.

Rachel bit into her own cupcake, and, God, the strawberry icing was whipped by the angels themselves. Quinn seemed to think the same thing of the peanut butter if her moan was any indication.

"I hope you enjoyed your birthday, Quinn." Rachel said thickly, the cupcake getting caught in her throat. It was seriously like eating clouds. And rainbows. She needed a gallon of water and some insulin to go with it.

"It was the best birthday I've ever had." Quinn said, completely seriously, focused on her peanut butter icing. Rachel watched her scoop some onto her finger and feed it to Cornelius. God, do they ever learn? Quinn noticed that Rachel noticed, and flushed. Rachel just laughed. She leaned over and kissed Quinn's peanut butter face with her strawberry mouth, which was… an interesting flavor combination. She would have to try that again.

When they returned home, the lobby was empty and the building was still standing, so, good sign, right? Hopefully all her neighbors had learned the hard way what not to do when the fire alarm sounds.

Rachel's oven hadn't been destroyed and all her dogs, plus Tubby, were alive and well. Oh yeah, and her friends, who were lounging around her apartment like nothing had even happened.

She and Quinn ate even more cake with them, and Rachel just had to hug Santana when she saw the blue lion made of icing on the top. Quinn was thrilled, and she also spontaneously hugged Santana, though she wasn't unceremoniously shoved off like Rachel had been. Quinn ate the whole lion, and then lay on the couch moaning about feeling sick until everybody left and she went to bed.

Rachel was just climbing under her covers when she heard the light knock on her door. She smiled to herself. "Come in, honey." She said.

Quinn stepped into the room with a hand on her stomach and a pout on her face, Pooh hanging from her hand, and Barnaby and Cornelius trailing along behind her. God, bring the whole damn fleet.

Rachel smiled sympathetically and motioned for Quinn, and all her goddamned animals who followed her around like she was Noah, to get under the covers. Quinn obliged and snuggled up to Rachel, sleepily mumbling something about her tummy hurting and cake lions.

Rachel briefly wondered why the hell they had stopped sleeping in the same bed. It was perfect. There was literally no downside, and Quinn smelled like sugary icing, and Barnaby was snoring like a helicopter, and Rachel could still taste peanut butter on her lips.

~ooooooooooo~

Rachel Berry was nothing if not prepared. For everything. She knew what to do for a fire, an earthquake, a rogue tidal wave that might take New York by surprise, washing all the foolishly unprepared residents out to the Atlantic. God, she was even ready for a zombie apocalypse. Yeah, she kept one of Puck's old baseball bats in her closet. They won't be making fun of her when she's the one decapitating the walking dead and saving all their asses.

Rachel always got to work early, she had extra costumes and extended warm-ups, and she would not be caught on her heels. Especially not by a psychologist who held her girlfriend's…mental health, not to be too dramatic or anything, in her hands.

But really, Rachel Berry was dramatic.

This is why Rachel spent all of Tuesday morning researching psychological disorders, and giving herself massive mental complexes, because, God, she was sure she possessed just about every single one of them. Kurt had even called her a sociopath in high school.

A person with an extremely antisocial attitude/behavior and a lack of a conscience. _Lack of a conscience_. Jesus.

But, no, Rachel had to stop wondering what people would think if she turned into a psychopathic murderer, and had to refocus on Quinn. Like, if Quinn were to turn in to a psychopathic murderer, she'd be the one answering questions like "did you see it coming?" with, "um, no, I just thought she liked dogs and gummy bears."

But Quinn was the most harmless, innocent creature on the face of the earth, so fielding homicide investigations wasn't a legitimate concern of Rachel's. Even if Rachel's imagination carried her away sometimes.

She didn't want to, you know, label Quinn with anything before they even had a session, but Quinn had listed a few disorders at that semi-disastrous, or _completely_ disastrous, dinner just over a week ago, so…she started by looking at anxiety disorders, and-wow. There were a lot. She ruled out Generalized Anxiety Disorder in her mind, not on paper or anything official like that because she didn't want to leave any evidence that she was actually _doing_ this.

She was a pro. No paper trail.

Panic Disorder and Social Anxiety Disorder seemed most likely. Hell, even PTSD, Rachel didn't know a lot about all the crap Quinn had gone through; she was actually excited for the session tomorrow, just to learn more about Quinn.

Rachel was in the middle of diagnosing Barnaby with schizophrenia when Quinn walked through the door.

Rachel slammed her laptop shut in irrational panic. Yes, exactly what a porn addict would do. She realized this, and then remembered that the word "porn" probably didn't even exist in Quinn's fluffy mind.

Quinn didn't seem to be having any pornish thoughts, and Rachel wondered why her own mind had now become fixated on the concept. She found herself right back on psychological disorders.

Quinn plopped down next to Rachel on the couch, tipping her head back and shutting her eyes tiredly. Rachel leaned up and kissed her, and Quinn's lips quirked up.

"Tired?" Rachel asked, running her fingers through shaggy blonde hair.

Quinn hummed. "Headache."

Rachel pouted sympathetically and put her head on Quinn's shoulder, still tracing her fingers along the back of Quinn's neck.

"We had to do inventory today." Quinn continued. "Count all the food and medicine and stuff…then put it in the computer…and all the prices, and…" Quinn sighed. Rachel tilted her head and kissed Quinn's jaw.

"I don't like that part." Quinn finished with a scowl.

"Because it's boring?" Rachel asked.

Quinn scrunched up her face and shook her head slightly. "Numbers."

Ahh. Now Rachel got it. Well, why would anyone want to fuck around with numbers when they could be playing with puppies, right?

"Maybe you should go to bed early tonight, instead of coming to my show." Rachel suggested. She was surprised at how fast Quinn's head shot up off the couch. God, don't snap your neck, woman. By her facial expression, you'd think Rachel had just asked her to cut off an arm.

"No." Quinn said resolutely, wincing at the pain her sudden movement had caused. Rachel rubbed her neck soothingly. "Of course I'm still coming to your show. I would _never _miss it."

Rachel smiled at Quinn's determined expression. It was nice having somebody familiar in the audience every night. Especially somebody you love. To look at. To anchor you. To clap for you on those nights when you think you're just the suckiest person in the world. To reassure that you didn't sound like a stroke victim when you said that last line. To call the hecklers "meanies" and then run backstage and cuddle on a dressing room couch.

Quinn was always there with a proud smile, and Rachel was not going to convince her to do anything otherwise.

"How are you feeling about tomorrow?" Rachel asked, resting her chin on Quinn's shoulder so her nose pressed into Quinn's cheek.

Quinn shrugged. Rachel smiled slightly and tapped Quinn's lips. "Words, please honey."

Quinn opened one eye and stared at her. Rachel was jealous. She looked epileptic every time she tried to wink. Her facial muscles just did not work that way.

"I…" Quinn started. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought. "It'll be good." She said softly.

Okay. Slightly less enthusiastic than Rachel, but positive. That was good.

Rachel moved to straddle Quinn's lap, and Quinn hugged her close like a teddy bear.

"Do you want some tea?" Rachel asked quietly in her ear. It always worked when she had a headache. She just had to fill it with things like sugar and honey. Things like Quinn.

"No." Quinn murmured, eyes closed and buried in Rachel's neck.

"Aspirin?" Rachel asked.

"No."

"Soup?"

"No."

"Left over cake with blue icing?" Rachel smiled as she asked this. She already knew the answer.

Quinn was silent for a moment. "…Yes." She said quietly, not moving her head or opening her eyes.

Rachel kissed the ear next to her mouth and slithered out of Quinn's grasp to get her girlfriend some cake.

Some people just never learn.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Finals week, so it might be a couple extra days before the next update. If you come across any words like cyclohexoxycyclohexane (which is ridiculously real), they're probably not supposed to be in there. And I can't thank you enough for reading and giving me your opinions!

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 13: No Curing Without Listening**

The therapist's waiting room was like being under the sea. Seriously. Like the Little Mermaid. There was a massive fish tank along one wall, which Quinn's eyes were fixed on, filled with tropical fish and hermit crabs. The other walls were light blue and decorated with pictures of ocean waves and marine animals. Rachel could definitely tell it was a family waiting room, with the stack of toys in the corner and the mother and infant who had been in the restroom for the last twenty minutes.

Maybe she should get somebody to check on them.

"Ms. Berry, Ms. Fabray, Dr. Madison's ready for you now." The receptionists said with a smile and a gesture towards the hallway that led to the office.

Rachel stood up and watched Quinn tear her eyes away from the fish. She smiled because Quinn's lips were green from the Ring Pop she'd had on the way over.

Rachel took Quinn's hand, though it was freezing, and a little clammy and twitchy, and they entered the office together. Rachel was smiling brightly with a subtle eye on Quinn. Quinn looked like she was walking the plank. With colorful lips.

"Hello Ms. Berry! Ms. Fabray!" The doctor greeted with a grin. His blue eyes sparkled as he gestured for them to take a seat.

Well, at least he didn't look like a creeper. And he wasn't, like, four times their age or anything. God, or _younger_ than them. Plus, his waiting room was pretty damn awesome. So far, Rachel approved.

"I'm Dr. Madison, but you can call me Tom. Is it alright if I call you Rachel and Quinn?" he asked.

Rachel nodded. "Of course! It's wonderful to meet you." She glanced at Quinn to see if she'd respond.

Quinn's eyes were darting over all the stuff on the doctor's desk. Normal stuff, like a Swingline stapler and a massive cup of paperclips, plus other things, like a smiley face stress ball and an octopus Beanie Baby. Quinn didn't respond, just absently reached out to touch the octopus.

Rachel smiled at her fondly. Tom tilted his head and folded his hands on his desk.

"Alrighty, well I'm not the kind of guy who likes to beat around the bush here," Tom started," so let's go ahead and begin by just getting to know each other. Okay? And why you felt professional help was necessary."

Rachel was listening intently and thinking about what to say. She was glad Dr. Madison hadn't pulled a notebook out of nowhere and started writing things down. That's what her therapist did in high school and it gave her a temporary paranoidal complex. She would leave those sessions crazier than she'd entered them, under the impression she was being taped, recorded, and judged without her knowledge and consent.

Tom just sat there expectantly. Rachel figured she'd have to be the one to speak, which was totally fine because she was Rachel Berry, and Quinn sat silently with her hands in her lap, eyes focused on the octopus.

Rachel took a deep breath and tried to formulate something to say that wouldn't send her off on a rambling tangent. It was difficult.

"Well…I-Quinn and I felt that we needed somebody to talk to. A professional, because…"

God, how could she say anything without making Quinn sound crazy?

Tom just watched patiently.

"Quinn's past is sort of…"

Mysterious? Locked in a vault that opens up when it's fed candy and Twinkies?

"Bumpy." Rachel went with. She glanced at Quinn as she spoke.

"And she's not really comfortable, or, um, entirely…functional with people." Jesus, this sounded terrible. Rachel trailed off, frowning a little as she replayed her vague, understated statement in her head.

Dr. Madison nodded and looked at Quinn. "Okay, so you're mainly here for Quinn."

Rachel nodded unsurely. Is that what she said? She really had no idea. God, was she being recorded? Was this being taped?

"And Rachel, you're here because Quinn wanted you here? Is that right?" Tom asked.

Rachel nodded again. Plus, she could probably use professional help herself. From what she's been told.

"We're going to have to get you talking, won't we, Quinn?" Tom said with a smile. Quinn looked over at Rachel nervously, and Rachel took one of the hands from her lap, rubbing her thumb along it reassuringly.

"My son got me that." Tom remarked, gesturing at the Beanie Baby. He picked it up and held it out for Quinn. "He's six. And he named it Pussy before my wife changed his mind."

Rachel actually snorted and Quinn flushed and accepted the octopus hesitantly.

"He changed it to Henry. I have no idea why. But now Henry's friends with some of my younger patients. He makes them smile." Tom continued.

Okay, Rachel liked this guy. And Henry. She definitely liked Henry. She did not like that plant in the corner that could easily conceal a hidden camera.

Quinn sat the octopus in her lap and twirled the tentacles around a finger on her free hand, eyes fixed on Dr. Madison's collar.

"It would help if you could give me a little bit of your history with therapy, Quinn. Maybe how often you've seen somebody, or what they said? What you thought of it?"

Rachel bit her tongue. She wanted to leap in and fill the silence so Quinn wouldn't have to, but she waited instead. And squeezed Quinn's clammy hand. Yeah, it took all of her willpower.

Quinn swallowed audibly and opened her mouth for a few seconds before anything actually came out.

"I don't like talking to people." She said quietly. Tom leaned over the desk to hear her, and then nodded amiably.

"Understandable." He commented.

"My first…therapist….I only saw twice. He said-he said I might have, um, Asperger's, but I stopped talking to him…so it wasn't…definitive."

God, Rachel was about to bite through her lip with how much she wanted to help Quinn along with her explanation.

"The next time, my aunt made-made me see a psyc-pscychologist, and he, um-" Quinn started stammering and Rachel reached her free hand over to rest on Quinn's bouncy knee.

"Slow down, honey." She whispered. The doctor watched them with a small smile, but remained silent so Quinn could finish.

"My aunt basically gave-gave him a list of what she thought was…wrong with me. And he just, um…agreed with most of them. I guess." Quinn frowned.

Rachel frowned too. What the hell?

Tom watched Quinn calmly. "What was on this list?" he asked.

Quinn sighed, and it was a few moments before she answered. Rachel hoped the list wasn't _that_ long.

"ADHD. Schizoid. Stunted development. PTSD. Social anxiety. Dyslexia."

Well, God. Rachel let go of Quinn's knee and moved her hand up to rub the back of the blonde's neck instead.

Tom was smiling a little when he spoke. "Well, Quinn, those are all conflicting disorders. I assure you, you don't have all of them. Nobody has all of them. In fact, we're going to say you have none of them, until I can make any kind of definitive decision, okay?"

Quinn's eyes were wide as she nodded slowly. Rachel smiled to herself; she definitely approved of Tom.

Until Tom turned to her and asked her to describe Quinn, and she froze. God, she could describe Quinn all day, but she'd make herself look like a perv or a fool if she tried to do so in a therapist's office. Well, she'd probably make herself look like a fool anywhere so- Quinn squeezed her hand and Rachel smiled into hazel eyes. She started there.

"She has happy eyes." Rachel said, and then scrunched up her face, because what the fuck just came out of her mouth? God, sap. Pull yourself together, Rachel. Quinn was bright red and smiling at her.

"I mean, her eyes are bright, and she makes me want to play games." Really, make yourself sound like more of a toddler, Rachel.

"She is the sweetest, kindest person I've ever met. Plus she's gorgeous." There that was better. Quinn's face looked like it was about to burst into flames, and Rachel tapped her warm cheek with a smile.

"She has a wonderful, innocent heart, and she believes in all the good things in the world. Her imagination is just-is just insane, and she loves animals and feeds them junk food until they get sick…"

Tom chuckled a little and Quinn shook her head shyly.

"And I'm glad she brings me up into the clouds with her. And I kind of want to kiss her right now."

Rachel didn't know if that was against some kind of unwritten rule, but Tom raised his eyebrows and made a gesture that said _go for it, woman_!

Rachel leaned across her chair and pulled Quinn's head closer by grasping onto flushed cheeks. Quinn giggled a little as Rachel's lips slid over hers, and Rachel nearly fell sideways out of her chair. She pulled back and collected herself nonchalantly before looking at Tom expectantly. What next?

Tom leaned back in his chair and looked at Quinn. "Now it's your turn, Quinn. Describe Rachel for me."

Well, Quinn didn't look nearly as frozen and foolish as Rachel had. She looked _excited_.

Rachel was a little tense. Asking people to describe her always ended in tears. Mostly because people just couldn't handle her insane talent and devolved into jealous fits.

"Rachel's the best. She's beautiful and small and perfect for me, and her dog is my second best friend." Quinn's eyes were bright and she rocked a little in her chair. "And she, um, has the-the most wonderful voice I've ever-ever heard, and-"

"Slow down a little, Quinn." Tom requested with a smile. "I can barely understand you."

Rachel chuckled and mouthed "words" at Quinn. Quinn nodded and took a breath, patting the octopus in her lap.

"She's so talented, and she has the biggest eyes ever, and I just get lost in them sometimes."

Rachel _almost_ snorted, but decided to drown in a puddle of her own mush instead. She'd never been told she had the "biggest eyes ever" before. It was a little disconcerting. Hell, at least it wasn't the _smallest_ eyes ever.

Quinn sobered a little. "And she listens to me. I don't think anybody-She's the only one who does. And she's never been mean to anyone, and she doesn't like people who are mean to me…Plus, I feel like I'm being, um, zapped, I guess, when I'm near her."

Uh-oh, was that good? Rachel knew she had an electrifying personality, but it could really go either way.

"Because I love her." Quinn finished quietly.

Rachel was still absorbing that and trying not to cry when Quinn pulled her into a surprise hug across their chairs. Tom watched them warmly and then got Rachel talking about how she ended up in New York, and Quinn talking about her job at the animal rescue. After another half hour he glanced at the clock on the wall and clasped his hands together brightly.

"Okay, Rachel, Quinn, our time is up, but I'd really like for you to return. I feel like there's a lot we can work on here; would you be interested in that?"

Rachel nodded immediately, and Quinn followed, slightly less enthusiastically. Tom grinned.

"Alrighty. Well, our plan would be to talk some things out of you, Quinn. To understand why you feel, act, and react the way you do, and maybe to make you more comfortable around people. We just don't want you to become dependent on Rachel, here. Okay?"

Rachel faltered a little. "You think she's dependent on me?"

Tom shook his head immediately. "I really can't determine that yet, but, from what I've seen, you're good for her. Helping her to branch out some more. Which is exactly what you need to do, Quinn, to avoid dependency."

Quinn looked a little nervous. She tapped her fingers against the arm rest until Rachel stilled her hand.

"I'm not saying become a talkative little social butterfly, Quinn. Maybe just find other things or people to devote time to. Or mind. Don't worry, you will always set the pace."

Quinn nodded slowly, and smiled warily when Tom gave them a parting grin. He took the octopus back with a wink and stood up as they exited the room.

Quinn got distracted by the fish for a few seconds, and Rachel briefly wondered if that woman and her child had ever come out of the bathroom.

Rachel was surprised that this visit hadn't ended in tears or gone terribly awry. She was a little excited, actually. And then a lot excited when Quinn bought her an ice cream and kissed her with a strawberry mouth on the way home.

~ooooooooo~

A couple days later, Rachel came to the conclusion that Cornelius was an evil mastermind, who did things like chew the pipes under the sink until they cracked for his own puppy pleasure.

Now Rachel was cracked.

She had stopped the flow of water by basically wrapping every single towel she owned around the now massive gash, and was sloshing through the water on the kitchen floor, yelling random obscenities in the puppy's direction.

All while trying to quell her irrational fear that the floor would give out and she'd be crushed under her apartment building.

She'd called the maintenance guy four fucking hours ago, and she jumped when the front door opened, only to find that it was Quinn. With her hands behind her back, obviously hiding something and trying to look nonchalant about it. Quinn hadn't noticed her, and Rachel watched her girlfriend move through the entryway and into the living room using what she apparently believed were amazing ninja skills.

Rachel smiled in spite of herself as Quinn tip-toed along, a smug expression on her face that said she believed she was getting away with something.

"Quinn." Rachel said, trying to look serious and watching blonde hair whirl around and hazel eyes widen in surprise. Yeah, she definitely looked guilty.

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "What have you done? Have you broken something?"

Because it really can't be worse than the sink situation.

Quinn balked and stood in the living room watching Rachel. She looked conflicted. Rachel watched her jaw work up and down a few times. She moved out of the kitchen and towards her girlfriend.

Quinn took a step back and shook her head.

Rachel halted. "Are you okay, honey?"

Quinn nodded silently and Rachel eyed her for a moment.

"What's behind your back?" Rachel asked, raising her eyebrows when she determined that, no, Quinn wasn't upset or anxious, just…hiding something.

Quinn bit her lip and hesitantly pulled a shoebox from behind her back. With holes in it.

Fuck. Another animal.

"Quinn." Rachel sighed, moving closer to see the box. "What is that?"

Quinn swallowed and watched Rachel carefully.

"A kitten." She said quietly, slowly pulling the top off the box and revealing the tiny, fuzzy animal. God, it was _orange_.

Rachel's first thought was that, ohmygod it was the most adorable thing ever. But then she remembered the flood that was occurring in the kitchen at the moment, and she looked at Quinn seriously.

"What are you doing with it?" Rachel asked, hazel eyes locked onto hers.

Quinn opened her mouth for a second before anything came out. She looked down and tapped the tiny orange head softly.

"She was orphaned…and she's blind in one eye." Quinn explained quietly, returning to Rachel's gaze.

Perfect. A half-blind, orphaned, adorable kitten. How the fuck could anybody say no to that without coming off as a heartless asshole?

Quinn continued speaking as Rachel just watched her. "Dr. Madison said-said I should get, um, other interests, I guess, right? Like, stuff to devote my time to, so…" Quinn trailed off and looked down at the kitten.

Rachel smiled softly at her. "So you brought home a kitten?"

Quinn nodded. God, was she puffing her cheeks out purposely, or was the universe just making it a mission to surround Rachel with the cutest things ever created?

Rachel frowned. So why had Quinn been ninja-ing her way across the living room?

"Were you going to keep her in your room? Or…" She trailed off, eyebrow raised in amusement.

"You don't like Seal." Quinn blurted, and then shook her head around. Rachel reached up absently and patted the blonde hair back down. "So I thought you wouldn't…No one wants her because she's blind."

God. Ridiculous. Just ridiculous.

"Quinn, Cornelius is evil, but I still love him. But, I don't think another pet is what Dr. Madison was talking about when he said to find some more interests."

Quinn's face fell and she broke eye contact to look down at the sleepy kitten.

"_But_," Rachel said emphatically, ducking until Quinn met her eyes again "you've probably already named her, right?"

"Jelly Bean." Quinn said quietly. A bright orange jelly bean.

Rachel bit the side of her mouth to keep from cracking up. Really, that was just a perfect name for Quinn. By this point, she had resigned herself to the fact that, yeah, they'd have another fucking animal in the house.

God, by the end of the year they'd have a zoo. Hordes of rescues sleeping in Quinn's bed and chewing up their plumbing.

Rachel watched Quinn's eyes start to shine and hurried to prevent her from crying.

"I think we should keep her." Rachel said. That was probably a little more enthusiastic than what was running through her brain, but whatever. She was really thinking _I'll resign myself to this fate because if you cry my heart will split in half. _

Not dramatic at all.

Quinn looked at her hopefully and Rachel smiled softly.

"You love animals, and I love you, so I think we should keep her."

Quinn grinned, and made a move to set the box down so she could hug Rachel, but Rachel stopped her.

"But," she proclaimed. Quinn focused on Rachel determinedly. Rachel felt inordinately powerful right now. She could probably get Quinn to do anything she wanted. Oh, the possibilities. But all she could think of was daring Quinn to drink a bottle of ketchup. Quinn would be fine and Rachel would vomit, so she stuck to the task at hand.

"If you really want to take some steps and listen to what Tom said, I think we can start tonight. With the plumber…who's, like, seven hours late, but…What do you think?"

Quinn chewed on the inside of her cheek, and Rachel reached a hand up and tapped it to stop her from doing that.

"What do you mean?" Quinn finally asked.

"Just…deal with the plumber." Rachel stated simply. "I'll chill in the living room, and you, you know, interact with him. Greet him, tell him what needs to be done…"

Rachel hadn't actually dealt with a plumber before. She hoped they were nice people. They seemed like they'd be honest, hard-workers.

Quinn rocked back on her heels and looked at the kitten longingly. Rachel smiled. She knew an animal would beat Quinn's nerves.

"Okay." Quinn said quietly. "I can do that."

"Yes you can." Rachel assured, taking the shoe box and setting it on the floor so that Barnaby could investigate his _other_ new friend. She leaned up and kissed Quinn, who wrapped her arms around her tightly.

Rachel ran her fingers through the light blonde hairs at the nape of Quinn's neck, and Quinn opened her mouth so that she could explore further. A knock on the door interrupted them. _Now_ the maintenance guy decides to show up.

Rachel pulled back and ruffled Quinn's hair encouragingly, before going over to the couch and plopping down with Jelly Bean in her lap. Quinn looked nervous, and she stiltedly made her way over to the door and pulled it open, with a final glance back at Rachel.

"Hey, you guys have a leak?" The maintenance guy asked, raising up a toolbox. He looked bored.

Not a leak. A fucking lake. In the kitchen. Because of these damn animals that are multiplying every day.

Quinn nodded, eyes fixed on the buttons on the guy's shirt. She didn't say anything, just gestured for him to come in and follow her. Rachel caught her eye and mouthed "words" with a reassuring smile. She held up the kitten for positive reinforcement. Quinn smiled with her lips pressed together.

"Um, it's under the sink. One of our-our dogs chewed a crack in the-in the pipe…and it just sort of expanded. I guess." Quinn explained, twirling the rubber band around her wrist.

The guy nodded easily and stepped through the puddles to the sink. Quinn sat on the counter funneling gummy bears into her mouth as Rachel watched. The plumber simply replaced the C-bend pipe, Cornelius stalking him from the hallway the whole time. Rachel figured he was planning how best to destroy the next thing.

"Thank you." Quinn said, walking the plumber to the door. "I like your hat." She added quietly before the door shut. Rachel looked up to see that, yeah, his hat had a lion on it. A Detroit Lion. Rachel smiled to herself. Quinn probably didn't realize it was a football team.

"See, that wasn't so bad!" Rachel proclaimed as Quinn sat next to her and took Jelly into her lap. Barnaby jumped up next to them and the demon Cornelius followed. "You did wonderfully, Quinn." She said, leaning her head on Quinn's shoulder.

Quinn flushed. "I didn't do anything."

Rachel smiled when she felt a kiss on her temple. "Baby steps, big bear."

Jelly rolled over and Quinn grinned brightly. Rachel rubbed the kitten's tummy. And then she rubbed Cornelius' fluffy tummy. And then Quinn's tummy just to make her laugh.

God, she just couldn't resist these things around her.


	14. Chapter 14

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 14: Hum Hallelujah**

Quinn was crying. Though she was obviously trying to hide it, taking bunny bites of the vegan chili Rachel had made, a sort of terrified smile fixed on her face.

Tears were about to start rolling down her cheeks, but she kept eating it. Now that was, that was just true love.

Rachel had taken one bite of hers and nearly vomited into the sink. Now that her esophagus was permanently damaged, she was eating bread and milk. Quinn, apparently, refused to acknowledge that the chili was anything less than amazing, or anything more than tolerantly hot, and she plowed right on through.

Rachel winced as Quinn started sniffling. Her eyes had turned bloodshot and she was looking a little sweaty. Jesus Christ, what had gone wrong with that recipe?

"Honey, just stop." Rachel pleaded, reaching over to prevent Quinn's spoon from dunking into what was essentially lava, again. "I did something wrong. You're going to make yourself sick."

Quinn shook her head vigorously and breathed deeply. Well, at least her lungs were still functioning. Surely her other organs wouldn't last much longer.

"No, it's good." Quinn insisted, though she couldn't hide the frightened look in her eyes when she dunked her spoon in for another bite.

Rachel made a noise between a sigh and a laugh, and swiped the bowl away from Quinn to pour it down the sink. Or in the trash. It would probably cause the sink pipes to disintegrate and they'd have to call the plumber again.

"Hey." Quinn protested weakly. She looked dazed, like she didn't know what was happening. Rachel put a glass of chocolate milk in front of Quinn, and felt her girlfriend's forehead with a cool hand. God, she was on fire.

Rachel had ignited her girlfriend.

She watched Quinn give up the pretense of enjoying that meal, and chug her milk before laying her head down on the table wearily.

"I told you, you didn't have to eat it, honey." Rachel said, scooting closer and rubbing Quinn's back slowly.

Quinn whined into the tabletop, though it was muffled by her arms. "It tasted good. And I was hungry. And you said there were-were cookies for dessert…Now my stomach hurts."

Rachel rolled her eyes, but kept rubbing, and placed a cool hand on the back of Quinn's neck. She had said over and over to _stop eating it_. Quinn just didn't learn. Apparently her iron stomach had made her believe that she could handle this concoction.

Pssht. Even Barnaby wouldn't go near that pot of lava. Pot of fucking disaster.

Quinn sat up suddenly and looked at Rachel with a pained expression. Rachel knew that look. Unfortunately.

"Are you going to be sick?" she asked quickly.

Quinn was already standing up when she nodded, and Rachel followed her hurriedly into the bathroom, just in time to pull blonde hair out of Quinn's face.

Rachel grimaced as Quinn retched. She would make herself vomit if she focused too much on the noises, which, yeah, that would be exactly what they needed. God, Quinn probably felt like a Charizard right now. Hurling up flames. She looked more like Charmander. Tiny little Charmander.

Quinn emptied her stomach as Rachel just rubbed her back and focused on Quinn's cartoon fish shower curtain. That's a clownfish. That's a dolphin. That's the sound of vomiting. That's a seahorse. That's the smell of stomach acid.

Oh God, Rachel was seconds away from hurling when Quinn finally stopped and slumped back, breathing heavily. Rachel regained control of her own stomach through sheer determination and brushed the hair out of Quinn's face with a sympathetic smile.

"Better?" she asked, getting up to wet a washcloth and handing it to Quinn.

Quinn scrunched up her face. Obviously she wasn't better. Fire does take a while to pass through your system.

"Can I have my cookies now?" Quinn asked pathetically, as Rachel pulled her up and escorted her out to the couch in the living room. Okay, seriously?

"No, Quinn, that's ridiculous. Your tummy's upset and you need to let it settle down." Rachel adjusted Quinn so that her head was on Rachel's lap, and turned on the TV. Quinn rolled over to face it when she heard horses mentioned on Animal Planet.

"You poisoned me." Quinn mumbled. "Just so-just so you could have all the cookies."

Rachel wondered if Quinn knew what she was saying, but she snorted anyway. "Quinn, you're the cookie monster. Not me." Rachel ran her hands through Quinn's hair, gently pulling out the perpetual tangles. They really were both cookie monsters, and Rachel was just taking advantage of the fact that Quinn was obviously in no state of mind to formulate an argument right now.

"I don't like chili." Quinn said quietly into Rachel's thigh. "Or egg salad. I like tomatoes. And cookies."

Rachel tried not to laugh too much because it would jostle Quinn's head around. The hell was she talking about?

"I got sick the last time I ate it, too." Quinn continued, dropping an arm down to pet Cornelius as he plopped down in front of the couch. "My aunt made it for me. And it had onions in it."

Quinn was silent for a moment. "I don't like onions." She added.

Rachel nodded to herself. "I know you don't, honey."

"I threw up in the living room…And she wasn't-wasn't home, so I had to clean it up…It was gross."

Rachel nodded again. She would end up throwing up in the living room if Quinn didn't stop talking about vomit.

"Go to sleep, honey." She whispered. "We need you to feel better for our session tomorrow morning."

Quinn sighed deeply and pointed in the vague direction of the TV. "I want that one, too."

Rachel smiled when she saw the horse on TV. Yeah, that wasn't going to happen any time soon. They already had three animals, and Rachel was only completely sure about the location of one of them.

Hopefully they weren't eating the leftover chili. Then they'd be down to two.

~oooooooooooo~

"Okay, Quinn, we're going to play a game." Dr. Madison stated, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his desk. Quinn sat up from where she had been slumping in her chair and watched him with bright eyes.

"Well, it's less of a game, more of an exercise." Tom smiled when he saw Quinn's face fall a little bit. "_But_, I have a container of cookies that my wife made, which I'll give to you and Rachel if you try your best."

Rachel chuckled at Quinn's determined expression. Yeah, she got this.

"Today we're going to focus on eye contact and smooth speech, alright? I'm going to give you a little trick to help you when talking with strangers, and then I'm going to bring my receptionist in and we'll try it out."

Quinn bit her lip, but nodded. Rachel watched her proudly. Some people might call this a waste of time, but Quinn was really trying to improve her social skills. Plus, nothing that gave you cookies as a reward was a waste of time. Nothing.

Tom turned and directed a question at Rachel.

"Quinn has no problem looking you in the eyes, Rachel. Why do you think that is? Why is it so hard for her to maintain eye contact with others?"

God, Rachel didn't know. At least right off the top of her head. She knew why she looked in Quinn's eyes, because they were like shining beacons of lovable happiness and she just couldn't look away. She could tell what Quinn was feeling through her eyes.

Rachel made eye contact with everybody, except when she was eating popsicles or bananas, because that was just wrong.

"I love Rachel. I love her eyes." Quinn blurted, while Rachel was deep in thought about everything that was wrong with hot dogs.

Tom looked at Quinn. "But you don't love me, and you're starting to maintain eye contact a little better with me as well."

Quinn furrowed her brow and looked down at the octopus in her lap.

"I think it's…trust." Rachel interjected. "It takes her a while to trust people, but then she'll show us those gorgeous eyes and…"

Quinn flushed and nodded along. "I don't-I feel like people are, um, staring into my…soul? I guess. Like they can see…"

"Everything." Tom supplied. Quinn fiddled with a tentacle.

"Okay." Dr. Madison continued. "How about that little stutter that comes along when you're excited or nervous? I feel like you're incapable of lying, Quinn, or keeping things inside. Everything, including those little nervous tics, just externalizes itself automatically. What do you think?"

Quinn looked at Rachel unsurely, and Rachel took her hand. She actually completely agreed, but waited to see what Quinn would say. Quinn was a giant ball of inadvertent honesty.

"Um…I don't lie. That's…mean."

Rachel smiled and pulled Quinn's hand up to kiss it. Yes. Lying was mean. Quinn was totally right.

"It is mean." Tom agreed with a smile, turning to Rachel.

"Rachel, what do you think is going through Quinn's head as her words fall all over each other?"

Oh! Rachel knew this one. She felt like she knew exactly what was going through Quinn's head, and she smiled at Quinn before answering.

"When she's excited, she stutters because there's just so much to say, she can't get it out fast enough." Rachel knew the feeling. She was very excitable as well, but had learned to hold a lot of inside so she came off as less psychotic.

"And then when she's nervous, I think, Quinn, you try to get what you want to say out as fast as you can, so it's like you're...speaking less. I guess." Rachel looked at the doctor unsurely. Did that make any sense?

"I think you hit it right on the head, Rachel." Tom stated. "Now, Quinn, I have a trick that I give to all my patients who deal with anxiety in social situations."

Quinn sat up straighter and listened intently.

"We want you to think in pictures, which I think you do already. Maintain eye contact, but don't focus on what you're seeing. Focus on what you're saying, and picture that instead. I think in your case, it might help in slowing down your speech when you get a little carried away."

Quinn was quiet for a second. "Think in pictures." She stated.

Tom nodded. "Think in pictures. For you, maybe animals. Books…Are you ready to try it out?"

Rachel smiled when Quinn turned to look at her, and Quinn nodded resolutely.

"Yeah. I can do it."

Dr. Madison left the room, and Rachel leaned over the gap between the chairs to ruffle Quinn's hair, chuckling when Quinn shook it back out.

When Tom came back with Sara the secretary, she and Quinn moved to the couch, and Tom took the now empty seat next to Rachel. Sara greeted Quinn warmly, and Quinn gave her a shy smile.

Rachel watched Quinn's eyes flicker repeatedly from Sara's eyes to her collar. This had to be the most awkward way to have a conversation ever. Seriously. Rachel could not think of a more awkward situation at the moment.

Tom just sat there nonchalantly crossing his legs and looking expectantly at the women on the couch. Rachel almost broke into song it was so fucking quiet.

"Quinn, I heard you work at an animal rescue place. That must be fun." Sara started off brightly. Oh God, finally. Somebody's speaking.

"Yeah." Quinn nodded, rubbing her hands along the tops of her jeans. "Um, I get-I get to walk the dogs. And feed them. My boss says they're drawn to me…or something. I like the cats too. And rabbits, but they-they don't have any rabbits there."

Rachel smiled fondly at her girlfriend. She knew they'd have a rabbit to add to their damn fleet of animals soon. Quinn's eyes were moving slowly now. They weren't fixed on Sara's, but they weren't flickering madly around either.

"I used to have a rabbit!" Sara proclaimed. "His name was Snowy."

"Was he white?" Quinn asked, staring at a point just above Sara's head, then letting her gaze drift down slightly.

Sara shook her head. "He was actually black. My brother was trying to be ironic when he named him."

"My puppy's black." Quinn stated. "And white."

Yeah, black for the devil inside him masked by his angelic cuteness.

Sara looked surprised at the statement, but smiled. "I'll have to come over to the rescue sometime."

Quinn bit her lip and nodded.

"Do you go to the zoo a lot?" Sara asked.

To Rachel, this conversation seemed like it could be taking place between two kindergarteners. But Quinn was making eye contact, probably picturing fluffy bunnies or something, so whatever. Simple was good.

Quinn nodded.

"I like lions and bears." She stated, and right there, just- God, look at those eyes go. Freaking, laser eyes right there. Rachel grinned. That's her woman.

"My favorite animal would have to be zebras." Sara proclaimed.

Rachel watched Quinn start to rock back and forth in her seat a little. Her girlfriend took a few breaths and blinked exaggeratedly a couple times, like she was changing the pictures in her head.

"I love those too." Quinn replied, not slowly, but not in an unintelligible jumble either.

"Yeah?" Sara said. "I used to live in Honolulu, which is where I first saw them when I was a kid. At the zoo there."

Quinn's eyes brightened even more. "Really? I-We-on-on-" she broke off and took a breath before continuing. "On my birthday, we went to the Central Park Zoo. But they don't have zebras."

Sara smiled. "No, they don't. I don't know if you've been to the Bronx Zoo yet, but they have them there. And elephants."

Quinn's eyes widened and she whipped her head over to Rachel. Rachel tried not to dissolve into laughter, because, God, her girlfriend looked like she was four fucking years old. Rachel just nodded. She knew she'd be dragged to that damn zoo soon enough.

Quinn looked right back into Sara's eyes, and spoke seriously. "Thank you for telling me."

Sara grinned warmly at her. "No problem! You two should go sometime. You just make the cutest couple."

Quinn beamed at Rachel. God, Rachel loved her.

When Sara left, Quinn gave her a spontaneous hug. Probably for introducing her to new giant mammals to go visit. Rachel gave her a hug too, because she always gave them candy on their way out.

"Quinn, you did wonderfully today." Tom commented. Rachel nodded along with him, smiling at her girlfriend proudly.

Yeah, Rachel's girl was a pro at thinking in pictures. Better than everybody else. She was just amazing.

Quinn flushed and grinned.

"I'd like you to focus on what we did today for this week, okay Quinn? And then for the next few sessions, I'd like for you to come in by yourself. We'll talk a little about your past and get closer to the root of your issues, and I think there might be things you need to deal with by yourself before bringing Rachel in entirely."

Quinn was silent, and Rachel just watched her. She would accept whatever Quinn wanted to do.

"Do you think you're comfortable enough with me to do that?" Tom asked her gently.

Quinn licked her lips and nodded slowly. "I can still-I can still talk to Rachel about the things you say though, right? I want to-I want to make sure I'm…okay. So that I can be good for her." She said seriously.

There, right there. Mixed in with all the innocent and naiveté, with the youthful jubilance, was a rational adult capable of maintaining a healthy relationship. God, Rachel was about to cry. Leap and bounds, man.

"Of course. Rachel's part of your support system, now." Tom said, digging around under his desk and emerging with a plastic container of cookies.

Quinn's eyes followed them as he pushed them across the desk. Dr. Madison smiled at her, and congratulated her on the day's session again.

Rachel took the cookies to prevent Quinn from inhaling them on the way home. She had plans to practice Tom's "think in pictures" strategy with Quinn, but right now, she needed to look up the operating hours of the Bronx Zoo.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel hadn't been to karaoke since, well, like a month ago, but whatever. She missed it. It was just the perfect activity for her. Sing your heart out, sound better than everybody else, receive much drunken applause and praise. Just wonderful.

Now she hoped to share this with Quinn, and coerce her girlfriend into singing with her while providing opportunities for social interaction. She was a regular old psychologist by now. Quinn was refusing of course, as they sat around the apartment waiting for their friends to show up, but Rachel Berry would get her way. Or get drunk and forget everything and not care either way.

Puck texted her that he, Santana, and Brittany were in a cab downstairs, and Rachel locked Cornelius in the bathroom before leaving her apartment with Quinn in tow.

"Hi, everybody!" Rachel greeted excitedly, sliding into the back and gesturing for Quinn to scoot in next to her. Brittany beamed at them and gave them quick hugs, while Santana just stared and asked them why it took so long to get down there.

And if they were "banging."

Quinn's ears turned crimson and Rachel accidentally stomped on Santana's foot.

"So how's it going, Fabray? Has Rachel made you want to saw your own ears off and jump off a skyscraper yet?"

God, that was-well, no. Rachel could see how some people might feel that way when faced with her. She just had insurmountable, ungodly talent that could not be tamed. It must be intimidating for others.

Quinn shook her head and took a deep breath, then locked eyes with Santana. And stared. Just stared. She didn't say anything, and Santana looked slightly terrified, so Rachel laughed.

She patted Quinn's thigh encouragingly. "Good job, honey. Awesome way to start it off."

Quinn smiled, but didn't break eye contact.

"What are you picturing?" Rachel asked.

Puck was watching them like he had no idea what was going on, but whatever, he couldn't care less. Brittany was talking to the cabbie trying to get him to change the radio station.

"Barnaby." Quinn replied, eyes still fixed on Santana's.

Santana's jaw dropped. "You're picturing your fucking dog? What the hell?"

Quinn's eyes dropped to Santana's lips, and Rachel nudged her in the ribs.

"Santana, please don't swear. And it's because you have his eyes." Rachel stated. Really, anyone with brown eyes had Barnaby's eyes. But nobody could match the vibrancy in his, except Rachel of course, according to Quinn.

Santana looked like she was about to tell Rachel and Quinn to shove their little exercise up their-

"You know what, shove it up your-"

"San!" Brittany exclaimed, cutting her off and bouncing around as the cab driver finally changed the radio station to some top forty.

The karaoke bar was a small place, which pretty much ensured they wouldn't be mobbed by Rachel's fans, and it was filled with booths and small tables, all facing a stage that looked like it was about to collapse. Whatever. If Rachel died up there, or down there on the ground after the floor gave out, at least she'd be on a stage, doing what she loved. Singing…not Quinn. Unfortunately. For now.

They slipped into a booth, trying to ignore what sounded like a screech owl singing Bon Jovi, and a waiter came to take their drink orders.

Quinn sat up straighter in her seat, arm around Rachel, and made sure she was looking in his eyes when she ordered.

"Can I have milk, please?" she asked slowly, tapping her fingers against the pile of coasters.

God, it came out like James Bond. Quinn looked so serious. Double oh-seven would like milk. Please.

Rachel smiled and patted Quinn's thigh again, leaving her hand there this time. Santana was watching them with some kind of what the fuck expression. Whatever. She'd be drunk soon. Hell, she was probably drunk right now.

Kurt and Blaine joined them about half an hour into the evening, in the middle of Brittany's stunning rendition of "Baby Got Back," complete with dancing and gestures. She and Santana vanished for the rest of the night.

"Are you going to sing, Rachel?" Blaine asked, after signing himself and Kurt up to do the Bee Gees "You Should Be Dancing."

Rachel nodded excitedly, nearly knocking her drink over. No, she was not drunk. Just happy, because Quinn was happy and not overwhelmed, and playing table soccer with a crumpled up straw wrapper.

"Of course! And Quinn's going to sing with me." She stated.

Quinn choked on her milk. "Um-no, no, I'm not-I'm not going up there." She sputtered.

Blaine raised his eyebrows at them.

"Honey, pleeeease." Rachel whined. Maybe if she made herself seem drunk and pathetic Quinn would take pity on her. Or, no, cookies. Cookies solved all of life's problems.

"I'll make you cookies tomorrow." She bargained. Yeah, she would even if Quinn didn't get on the stage, but Quinn did not need to know that.

"Rachel, I don't-I can't…yet. Please-I'm sorry." Quinn stuttered quietly.

Rachel softened her smile and squeezed Quinn's thigh. She saw it as a victory that her hand had stayed there all of the night so far. And, no, she wouldn't actually force Quinn up there. No matter how much she wanted to hear her sing.

"No worries, bear. Don't be sorry, just, you better cheer for me, right?"

Quinn grinned and kissed her, and Blaine and Kurt oohed and awwed from the other side of the booth.

Rachel strode proudly up to the stage when it was her turn, pointed straight to the messy blonde head in the audience, and proclaimed, "This is for you big bear."

Rachel wasn't really in the state of mind to analyze the lyrics of Cher's "Believe," but, whatever they were, hopefully Quinn didn't take them literally. She was flailing around on stage by the time she hit the chorus, doing some sort of ridiculous dance because she saw Quinn laughing at it.

_Do you believe in life after love_

_I can feel something inside me say_

_I really don't think you're strong enough,_

_Now_

Rachel exaggerated every line. Okay, so maybe she was a little bit drunk, clutching her heart and belting it into the microphone, trying to make her voice sound like it was being electronically altered. It was difficult. Karaoke bars should provide voice box microphones for songs like this.

Rachel nearly walked right off the stage because she was so focused on Quinn's face. Cher would be proud though, because she sounded fucking amazing.

Quinn gave her a hug and kissed all over her flushed face when she sat back down and it finally dawned on her that she'd kind of made a fool of herself. Quinn just could not stop laughing though, so whatever. She could ignore the mockery of Kurt and Blaine because really, they were about to sing "You Should be Dancing." There was just no room to make fun of Rachel with that.

Quinn happily said goodbye, like, audibly, in full sentences, to all their friends. Well the ones who hadn't vanished to go have sex.

So, Kurt and Blaine.

And she kept eye contact with the cabbie for quite a few seconds when she told him where to go, and Rachel just watched proudly. And a little drunkenly.

She was sober by the time she was lying in bed, Quinn's icicle feet pressed up against her shins, Jelly on the pillow next to her face, Barnaby at the foot of the bed, and Cornelius tucked into Quinn's side.

Full house, man.

"Rachel." Quinn whispered hesitantly. "Are you awake?"

Rachel smiled, though her eyes were closed. She hummed in affirmation.

Quinn was silent for a minute, and Rachel let her process what she wanted to say instead of dragging it out of her.

"I want to sing you a song." Quinn said softly.

Wait, like right now?

Rachel opened her eyes and blinked in the darkness, then rolled over and waited until she could see Quinn's face. She was elated on the inside. Really, singing was the key to Rachel Berry's heart. If you weren't Quinn Fabray.

Quinn just held the key no matter what.

"I would love for you to sing me a song." Rachel said, just as quietly.

Quinn rubbed the balding fur on Pooh's cheek and swallowed. "I used to sing it to myself every night, because I-because I wanted someone to, um, feel like that…about me. I guess. Or someone I could feel that way about…Or for."

Rachel let her ramble a little and brushed blonde hair out of hazel eyes as she did so.

"Go ahead, honey." She whispered.

"You have to promise not to cry." Quinn said sagely. "Because I'm sort of an awesome singer. Not as amazing as you, but I'm really fantastic Rachel."

Rachel chuckled and shoved her in the shoulder. "Sing to me, woman."

Quinn licked her lips and Rachel settled her head on Quinn's chest as Quinn started singing. Very quietly.

_There comes a time, a time in everyone's life_

_Where nothing seems to go your way _

_Where nothing seems to turn out right_

_There may come a time, you just can't seem to find your place_

_For every door you open, seems like you get two slammed in your face_

Rachel actually recognized this. It was Ray Lamontagne, and God, it was beautiful. Quinn was right. She was fucking seconds away from crying, and she focused on pressing Quinn's reptile feet into her legs as some sort of shock therapy to prevent the tears from falling. Quinn got a little louder as she went on.

_That's when you need someone, someone that you can call. _

_And when all your faith is gone_

_Feels like you can't go on_

_Let it be me_

_Let it be me_

_If it's a friend that you need_

_Let it be me_

_Let it be me_

Quinn trailed off at the end and Rachel tried to rein in her emotions so that she could speak. It just wasn't happening. God, even freezing feet and kitten breath in her face couldn't stop the tears.

Quinn must have heard a sniffle because she wrapped an arm around Rachel's back. "Are you okay?" she asked. "I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"No. God, Quinn…" Rachel interrupted. Pull it the fuck together woman. "God, I love you. Your voice is beautiful. And whoever made you feel like-like you needed-like you can't-God, I can't even…"

Really, get a goddamned hold of yourself.

"No matter what happens, I'll always be your friend, Quinn. And I know you'll always be mine."

And hopefully more. Of course.

"And more." Quinn said softly into Rachel's hair.

Rachel chuckled. "Of course."

"So you weren't crying because I sounded better than you?" Quinn asked a moment later. Rachel could hear that little smile in her voice.

Rachel ignored this question and cuddled closer to Quinn, displacing multiple real and stuffed animals on her way.

She couldn't tell who was snoring, and who was fidgeting, and what the hell that lump was pressing into her stomach, but she loved it. And she fell asleep immediately.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Guys. This chapter swallowed me whole. And it Just. Kept. Growing. There were so many ways it could've gone, and I was (am) high on Christmas cookies when I wrote it. This is where it went.

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 15: I Won't Be the One Who Lets Go of You**

Rachel was not some kind of sex-crazed maniac. Really. She wasn't. But she was human, and she had a gorgeous girlfriend who she loved, and who, luckily, was also human. Very human. Even though she looked like an angel.

And this girl just happened to have her hands under Rachel's pajama top and her mouth latched on to Rachel's neck, and Rachel, well, she was just losing control. She wasn't really sure where she was at the moment. Or what was happening. Or what her name was. Or why there was a dog sitting in the doorway watching them.

She was definitely not in the state of mind to find that appropriately creepy.

Rachel only knew that it felt like she was about to burst into flames, and that Quinn was grinning delightfully as she fondled one of Rachel's breasts like a plaything.

Rachel moaned, making Quinn chuckle and kiss her again, and she ran a hand up and down Quinn's back. God, was she on fire? She had to be on fire. There was just no other explanation.

"Quinn, we-we have to…we have to stop." Rachel managed to choke out. How she did so, she had no idea. She only had a sort of vague control of her body right now. She wasn't even doing much, just letting Quinn explore because it was all new for her.

Quinn was having the time of her life, apparently.

She thought back to what Santana had said, about Quinn probably having no idea what she was doing. And then she regretted that because now she was picturing Santana. Who was probably right. Quinn was clumsy, but oh so gleeful about loving on Rachel.

Quinn pouted and kissed Rachel again before dropping her head onto Rachel's heaving chest and staring up into brown eyes. Or black eyes, probably. Rachel figured she probably looked like a demon right now.

"Why?" Quinn asked, catching her breath.

Rachel waited until she was sure she could speak in full sentences before responding. She noticed Cornelius sitting in the doorway. Perverted demon puppy.

"We're getting carried away. And I know you're not ready to…" Rachel stopped herself before "go all the way" came out of her mouth. Hey, self-control, look at that.

"To what?" Quinn asked obliviously, eyes bright, still draped on top of Rachel, running her fingers along Rachel's jaw.

Contentedly clueless.

"You're a virgin, right?" Rachel asked gently.

Quinn's eyes dropped to Rachel's neck and her hand stilled. She nodded silently.

"Quinn, look at me." Rachel whispered.

She brushed tangled blonde hair out of Quinn's eyes and smiled softly up at her. She waited until Quinn met her eyes again.

"It's okay honey. We won't do anything we aren't ready for." Rachel said quietly. Quinn moved her head so her ear was pressed against Rachel's chest.

"I love you, and you're just so…" Rachel chuckled wryly. "We just had to stop."

She ran her hand through Quinn's hair, and Quinn took a deep breath, blowing warm air onto Rachel's arm.

"Are _you_ ready?" Quinn asked hesitantly a moment later.

Wait, what? Right now?

Rachel's eyes flitted around. She valiantly restrained herself from blurting out "hell yeah" and stayed quiet for a moment. She couldn't lie and say "no." Lying to Quinn would be like…punching a puppy. Or something. And not a demon puppy like Cornelius.

Quinn was still waiting for her response.

"Whenever you are." Rachel said quietly, and honestly, tracing lightly up the back of Quinn's neck. "Weeks, months, years. Whatever, big bear. I love you."

Quinn nodded against her chest and lay silently for a minute. "It might-I might…"

Rachel stayed quiet and waited for Quinn to gather her thoughts. When no more words came, Rachel nudged her lightly in the ribs.

"Bear." She said.

Quinn sighed shakily. "What if-do…I don't-I don't want it to be really bad." She breathed into Rachel's neck.

Rachel looked down at her and smiled slightly. "I love you, honey." She wrapped her arms around Quinn like a stuffed animal. Actually, she was actually lying on a stuffed animal right now. Or four. Or four hundred.

"Don't worry. Whenever…it happens, I'll help you, and you'll help me, and…we'll close the door so our perverted animals can't stalk us from the doorway."

Quinn sighed again, but Rachel could feel the smile pressed against her chest. Quinn stayed silent for a while, and Rachel twirled blonde locks around her finger.

"You smell like peanut butter." Quinn commented several moments later, tapping her fingers along Rachel's arm to the beat of her heart.

God, those fucking cookies. They were becoming part of her now. Running through her blood stream and seeping out of her skin. She'd have a peanut butter soul soon.

Rachel leaned her head up to smell Quinn's hair. Not creepily, though. Really, she wasn't being creepy. She grinned and ruffled it, smiling when Quinn ducked into the space between Rachel's shoulder and her neck.

"You smell like blue Airheads." Rachel said.

Quinn hummed. "I like the blue ones. And the white ones because they're supposed to be mystery flavored, but they all taste the same…so, it's not a mystery. And I like the green ones. And the red ones."

So basically all of them. Rachel smiled to herself in the early morning light.

It was silent for a few minutes, and Rachel's body temperature was slowly rising back up to intolerable levels as Quinn remained completely on top of her.

"Quinn." She whispered, jostling her around a little. Quinn didn't move. She was essentially dead weight, sleeping with her cheek pressed up against Rachel's neck. God, it was so hot in there. Quinn's warm breath was not helping. Her own bear insulation.

Fortunately, Barnaby seemed to sense that his assistance might be needed, and he came thundering past Cornelius into the bedroom, before leaping up and settling right next to Quinn. Rachel got Quinn to cuddle up to the dog instead, wiped the girlfriend drool off her neck, and went out to the kitchen to make chocolate chip pancakes.

~ooooooooo~

Quinn ate all of the pancakes, as well as all of the chocolate chips left in the bag, so Rachel made a run to the grocery store to restock. She could not make her girlfriend live in a house without chocolate chips.

Now Rachel was walking back home, trying not to make it seem like she was stalking the woman walking in front of her. Really, they were just going the same direction…And the same building…And the same floor. Rachel did not recognize this woman, but she didn't know most of her neighbors, so that told her absolutely nothing.

Maybe she was a psychic stalking Rachel in reverse. Oh God, the possibilities.

She looked about fifty, with thinning blonde hair, and frown lines marring her otherwise statuesque face. They kept glancing at each other in the elevator, those awkward "I-don't-know-who-you-are-but-I-can't-just-scowl-or-you'll-think-I'm-an-asshole" glances. Rachel smiled politely, though she hated this stranger already.

No, actually, Rachel didn't _hate_ people. She just wasn't…enthusiastic about this woman. Or her judgmental face, or- who the fuck wears stiletto heels in everyday life? Rachel was in a Tisch t-shirt and some of Quinn's sweats, and proud of it.

When the elevator opened, Rachel walked down the hall to her apartment, the stranger right on her heels. Oh no, she was about to be murdered. That's where this was going. Hopefully Quinn would hear her screams and Barnaby could make himself useful.

"Play" the stranger to death.

Rachel looked up in the corners for security cameras. None. God, how fucking old was this building? Groaning pipes, lack of security, murders being committed in the middle of the day.

Rachel got to her door and fumbled with her key a little before unlocking it, and then leaping out of her skin when the murderer addressed her with, "Oh, do you live here?"

No, I'm sauntering into somebody else's apartment with a bag of chocolate chips and a key, just for kicks. What kind of question was that?

Still, Rachel smiled politely, her hand over her heart. "I do." She said a little breathlessly.

Realization seemed to dawn in the woman's hazel eyes, and she smiled tightly. It made her look like a baboon, and Rachel just waited for her to say something. Or kill her. The door was still closed, but she was sure she could pop in before this woman pulled a knife or something.

"I'm Lisa." The baboon held out its hand, and Rachel's jaw dropped.

Okay, where was that hit-man? No, you know what, she had a pudding spork in her purse, so she could just-

The door opened suddenly, and Rachel turned her head to be met with Quinn's grinning face. Complete with chocolate milk mustache and dogs trying to bulldoze their way into the hall. Apparently Quinn had heard the sound of Rachel's thundering thoughts.

"Quinn!" Rachel exclaimed, not sure where she was going with that. She ignored the hand that was being held out to her to step towards her girlfriend. As soon as Quinn caught sight of Lisa though, her smile dropped, and her eyes focused on Rachel's shoes.

"Hello, Quinn." Lisa said. God, her voice was like a blender. Or something equally loud and gratingly annoying. A vacuum cleaner. Bulldozer.

"Hi, Aunt Lisa." Quinn said quietly as Rachel surreptitiously wiped the milk off her upper lip and on her jeans. Then Rachel turned around, so that Quinn was behind her, and looked at the baboon in the hallway, waiting to see what it had to say.

"Well, Quinn, we can't just stand out in the hall. Where are your manners?" Lisa stated, looking right over Rachel's shoulder.

Rachel squared her shoulders. "Maybe Quinn doesn't-"

"Yeah, sorry, come in." Quinn interrupted, gently wrapping an arm around Rachel's waist to move her out of the doorway and blocking the animals from escaping with her other one. Rachel spun around and gave her a questioning glance. Quinn just nodded slightly, blonde tangles falling into her eyes.

Rachel stood in the doorway and watched Quinn escort her aunt to the living room. She looked down at Cornelius, who was trying to claw his way up her legs, and shook her head. This would not end well. There was just no way. She should call Tom. Or that hit man. Maybe an ambulance.

Instead, Rachel grabbed the groceries and moved to the kitchen.

She put away the chocolate chips, and then the ice cream, which Quinn had left out after obviously deciding to have a second breakfast of crap, and went and sat next to Quinn on the sofa.

Oh, she forgot to ask Quinn's aunt if she'd like a drink. That's too bad.

"So, you must be Rachel." Lisa inferred with one of her baboon smiles. "We spoke on the phone once."

Rachel just nodded. She didn't know what to say. "You're a horrible person; get the hell out of my house" didn't seem to be full of tact.

Quinn was twirling the rubber band around her wrist and bouncing her legs like mad. Barnaby slithered right in front of her, squished between her knees and the coffee table, and sat down on her feet. He stared at Lisa, really, like laser death stared. Rachel heard a noise in the back of his throat, and Quinn started playing with his ears instead of the rubber band.

Good boy. Good dog. Awesome fucking dog.

Rachel was weirdly proud of Barnesy. Not so much Cornelius, who was rolling around on his back like a fool on the open space next to Rachel, but Rachel figured it was just inexperience. Or demon possession.

Quinn swallowed, and Rachel put a hand on her thigh to still it, watching Lisa's eyes follow the movement.

"What are you doing here?" Quinn asked, eyes fixed on the back of Barnaby's head.

"Look at people when you speak, Quinn." Lisa stated. "And I'm in the city on a shopping trip with some friends. I wanted to talk to you."

Rachel squeezed Quinn's thigh, and watched as Quinn painstakingly pulled her eyes up to meet her aunt's.

"About what?" she asked cautiously.

Lisa's eyes were focused on Rachel's hand, and she stared hard at Rachel for a moment before turning back to Quinn and responding.

"I'm cutting you off."

Well, that was abrupt.

Lisa continued. "You're twenty-four and you need to be responsible for yourself, so I'm not paying for the apartment or living expenses anymore. I thought I'd tell you in person."

Because you happened to be shopping in the city.

Quinn was silent for a minute, biting her lip. "Okay." She said softly.

Rachel moved her hand from Quinn's thigh to her back, running it up and down soothingly. It kept Rachel occupied, so she wouldn't make any sudden violent movements. You know, in case the baboon cared to offer an explanation. Which it did.

"So you'll need to leave that ridiculous job and get a real one, and probably move into a cheaper apartment." Lisa proclaimed. Rachel found that she was looking more and more like a rodent as this conversation progressed. Beady eyes. Stringy hair. Sharp teeth.

A baboon rat.

Where was Jelly? Maybe she could inflict a few scratches. Accidentally.

"Quinn's job is wonderful." Rachel found coming out of her mouth. "And she doesn't need to move."

Quinn sat there silently patting and staring at Barnaby's head. Lisa raised her eyebrows at Rachel.

"I'm sorry, but…can I clarify, what exactly is your role in Quinn's life?"

Hmm, well. Rachel watched Lisa's eyes drift to the hand that was still rubbing up and down Quinn's back. It refused to stop. Rachel refused to stop because her girlfriend was getting upset and she didn't care what this stranger thought.

She really didn't know how to answer though, so she looked at Quinn. Quinn looked like she wanted to sink into the couch cushions and disappear completely.

"I'm her girlfriend." Rachel stated loudly. She was totally ready for a smackdown. Bring it bitch.

To Rachel's surprise, Lisa just nodded calmly. "I'm going to tell you a little bit about Quinn, which she's too scared, or…too stunted, or whatever, to have told you herself."

Uh. Wait. Rachel wasn't so sure about that. That didn't sound like it could go well at all. Just a fucking recipe for disaster. She leaned around in front of Quinn and ducked so that Quinn would meet her eyes.

"Um, is that okay, bear?" Rachel asked quietly.

She didn't want this Lisa person spilling Quinn's deepest secrets without Quinn's consent. And without some kind of weapon on her sturdier than a pudding spork. Rachel didn't even eat pudding. Where the hell had that come from? Had Quinn eaten a pudding and stuck the used spork in her purse?

Fucking focus. This was not the right time for that.

"Quinn, look at her when she's speaking to you." Lisa stated.

Jesus, shut the fuck up woman. This is the message Rachel tried to get across with her eyes. She hadn't actually told anybody to "shut the fuck up" in her life. Mostly because nobody was ever able to get a word in edgewise. It was thrilling. She should do it more often.

Rachel turned back and softened her expression, smiling at her girlfriend.

Quinn nodded slightly. Rachel could see anxiety and fear in those gorgeous hazel eyes, but she saw trust as well. She sat back and took Quinn's hand, and nodded at Lisa expectantly.

"I adopted Quinn when she was eleven." Lisa started immediately. "The Children's Home called me, and said that she was having problems. She wasn't cooperating. She wasn't getting along well with the other children. I hadn't known my brother, so I hadn't known Quinn, and I refused to take her in."

Rachel swallowed and listened carefully. She squeezed Quinn's quivering hand tighter.

"Then, a week later, they called again and said she'd run away to Coney Island. She had been gone for three days, and she hadn't taken anything with her except for this disgusting old bear she used to have."

Rachel could picture that bear right now. Fresh out of the washing machine because Quinn had insisted Pooh needed a bath. Rachel had said the washing machine would tear his head off, and Quinn had been temporarily horrified. Luckily, Rachel was wrong.

Now he was under the covers of Rachel's bed with Fuzzy and Cuddles, and probably Jelly as well. God knows where that kitten was.

Jesus, hopefully not in the washing machine.

"She didn't eat anything, and she drank from water fountains and slept on the beach. When they found her, she refused to speak. She didn't say a word. They offered me monthly payments to adopt her, and…I mean, that wasn't the only reason I took her in. I just didn't know how…I didn't know her."

Lisa frowned. Rachel kept her jaw clenched to keep herself from crying. Rein it in. She was probably breaking Quinn's hand right now. Or was that Quinn breaking hers? How Quinn had gone without food for three days, she didn't know, but it was blowing her mind. She eyed the half empty container of cookies on the counter.

Never again, bear. Cookies for life.

"Anyway, I homeschooled Quinn through middle and high school. But I realized how…" Lisa glanced at Quinn like she was studying her. Quinn scooted slightly behind Rachel's shoulder.

"She's not normal. And I just did the best I could. She'd go back to Coney Island when she was supposed to be studying, or I'd find her in the neighbor's yard, playing with their dogs. She'd say weird things, do weird things, refuse to see the therapist I looked up. It just-it lasted so long. It never changed. "

Lisa took a breath and stared Rachel hard in the eyes. "I made her move out in January when I found her crying on a Central Park bench, instead of at the Columbia admissions meeting I'd set up. She just refuses to change, Rachel. She can't play with dogs the rest of her life, and she needs to suck it up and find a new job somewhere that won't care that she's socially…retarded."

Oh no she didn't. Oh no she _didn't_.

"For lack of a better word." Lisa tacked on before Rachel could launch herself across the coffee table. "Quinn was twenty-three, unemployed, no college education. She wouldn't leave my apartment. She couldn't talk to people. She needs to grow up, take her medication, and start living in the real world."

Rachel sat there squeezing Quinn's hand like her life depended on it. Which, you know, it seemed like it actually might. Did people like this exist in the world, or had she really been murdered in the hallway, and now she was in…limbo. With an ignorant bitch, a sweetheart, and a defensive dog sitting on the sweetheart's feet.

She wondered if her small frame could lunge across the coffee table in one movement, or if she'd end up scrabbling around and falling over it like a fool with a spork. She really might soon find out.

"I don't-I don't know how you can come into her home and say that." Rachel said disbelievingly, staring into Lisa's eyes. Quinn watched Rachel's mouth move out of the corner of her eye.

"She-she got a job in this big scary city, doing what she loves. And she has friends who care about her, and she's getting better with people. And she-she wrangled me in somehow and made me fall in love with her somewhere between the cookies and the animals."

Rachel didn't really know what she was saying. Her brain-to-mouth filter was feeble on a good day. This was not a good day.

"I'm cutting her off." Lisa interrupted. Which was probably for the best. "She won't be able to afford this place, and you may be a weak-minded woman, who will let her take advantage-"

"Whoa!" Quinn blurted, stiffening immediately. She shook her head around like she hadn't meant to say anything, but then locked eyes with Lisa, gripping tightly onto Barnaby's collar.

Rachel watched her carefully. Fucking whoa indeed. Rachel Berry was possibly the most _strong_- minded person anybody could possibly come across. And proud of it, man.

"Don't-don't be mean to her. Rachel's strong, and-and brave…And she knows-she knows I'm-I'm trying." Quinn said, and turned to face Rachel. She was quivering a little, and breathing slightly heavily. "I'm trying, Rachel." She repeated weakly.

Rachel just nodded and pulled her into a hug and held her tightly. She whispered that she knew, and that it was okay, and that she loved her, and Quinn clung to her like a koala. Rachel wondered what it would take for Barnaby to actually attack. Could she just say "get her," like in the movies? He'd probably start playing or something. Rachel wanted it to be a bit more dramatic than that.

What "it" was, she had no idea.

She was Rachel Berry. Strong-minded Rachel Berry. Capable of turning a spork into a weapon when somebody is mean to her girl.

"I think you should go now." Rachel said, pressing her face into messy blonde hair. She directed a glare in Lisa's direction but was too preoccupied to see if it had any effect.

She heard an exasperated sigh, and then Lisa stood up. Barnaby followed immediately, totally ready to leap into fluffy, golden action. Oh yeah, he had Quinn's back.

"You're a bright girl, Quinn." Lisa stated, clutching her bag in front of her. "But take your medication. You're useless without it."

Lisa turned on her heel and strode into the hallway before Rachel could smash her over the head with the vase on the side table. Rachel gently let go of Quinn, softly brushing blonde hair out of hazel eyes and giving a quick, reassuring smile, and then leaped up to follow Lisa.

Not so fast, bitch.

Oh, wait, she said that aloud. Lisa spun around and raised her eyebrows. No filter. No filter at all.

Rachel didn't falter, despite the fact she was experiencing some sort of adrenaline-inspired high from calling somebody a bitch to their face. It was a rush. Like being on stage, only…less fulfilling.

She didn't want to be mean to anybody. Quinn wouldn't like that.

Rachel spoke quickly and quietly, so that Quinn wouldn't hear, and Barnaby planted himself right at Rachel's feet and stared up at Lisa.

Or glared up at Lisa. He was ready to throw down.

"I don't know you, Lisa, but…you took Quinn in when she was a kid, so there had to have been some good in you." Rachel said lowly. "I don't know where it went, or if it's misdirected or fucked up or whatever, but Quinn is the sweetest, most kind-hearted woman I've ever met. _Despite_ you. I don't know why you can't see that she's perfect as she is, but you need to leave her alone, because you're a horrible influence."

Really. The worst. Rachel would probably be a crackhead or something if she'd grown up with a guardian like Lisa.

Rachel was about to spin around and go back to Quinn, but she paused.

She softened her gaze only slightly and looked into Lisa's apprehensive hazel eyes. "Thank you…for…bringing her to me. For getting her here."

Lisa stared for a moment, then nodded shortly and strode out the front door.

Rachel sighed and turned around, surprised to find Quinn right in front of her. Quinn actually whined a little in the split second before Rachel wrapped her in a hug. Quinn's breathing wasn't getting any better, and Rachel stiltedly walked them over to the couch to sit down, without unwrapping her arms.

Rachel wanted to cut this off before it turned into a full-fledged breakdown, and she rocked slightly and hummed _Hushabye Mountain_ into Quinn's ear.

"You're okay, big bear." Rachel said softly. Quinn squeezed her tighter, sniffling slightly, face pressed into Rachel's neck.

"Breathe with me, honey." Rachel encouraged, exaggerating her breaths so that Quinn could feel them. She moved Quinn's hand over her heart and held it there for a few minutes. When Quinn stopped shaking, Rachel pulled back just enough to see into reddened hazel eyes.

"Better?" she asked softly.

Quinn nodded slightly, but didn't let go of Rachel. She wiped her nose on her long-sleeved pajama top. It had dinosaurs on it, and Rachel kissed her on the nose because she knew Quinn would scrunch up her face like she didn't enjoy it.

She was not fooling anybody.

"Quinn, your aunt's a psycho." Rachel stated, completely seriously. Quinn's lips quirked up, and she loosened her hold on Rachel to pet Jelly, who'd emerged out of nowhere.

Some half-blind cat hangout like in _The Aristocats_. Ah, they should've called her Abraham Delacey Giuseppe Casey Thomas O'Malley the Alley Cat. Plenty of opportunities for nicknames better than Seal.

"What did she call me?" Rachel asked half-sarcastically about Quinn's aunt. "Weak and pitiful?"

"You're not." Quinn said immediately, stilling her hands on the fluffy orange belly. Rachel smiled.

"I know. And thank you for defending me. Just so you know, if I ever see…her, again, I'm shanking her with my spork." Rachel informed.

Quinn smiled fully and nodded, letting Rachel wipe the last of the tears off of her face, before going back in for another hug.

"Um, I think it's my spork, though."

Rachel snorted. She fucking knew it.

~oooooooooo~

Well, after _that_ fiasco, Rachel figured it would take more than funneling a few cookies into Quinn to bring her spirits back up. "More" not being more cookies, but, like, something different.

It was crazy. Cookies couldn't solve this problem.

Rachel took her to the bookstore, because she figured it would basically be Quinn if it was personified. Quiet. Warm. Sugary pastries. Hot chocolate. Books. Imagination. Just wonderful. Rachel would be something like a roller disco personified.

When she'd said "Barnes & Noble", Barnaby had lost all traces of his serious guard dog act and bounced around in foolish circles before realizing they weren't talking about him, or taking him for a walk. He laid down on the kitchen floor to sulk.

Rachel watched Quinn blatantly feed him two whole peanut butter cookies to cheer him up.

Now Rachel was walking back from the café section of the bookstore with cocoa and muffins, and she spotted Quinn sitting on the floor between the shelves, completely engrossed in the animal encyclopedia Rachel had handed her ten minutes ago.

She was cross-legged and leaning forward, blonde hair obscuring her face. She rocked slightly and twitched her head occasionally as Rachel watched, smiling fondly. Rachel wanted to throw things at Quinn, like marshmallows or something, just to see if her girlfriend would realize.

In fact, Rachel was turning back to the café to get some mini marshmallows when Quinn looked up at her and grinned. Yeah, sixth sense or Rachel-o-meter or something.

Rachel smiled and walked over to sit down across from Quinn. Quinn's eyes lit up at the sight of the chocolate muffin, and she took it eagerly.

Because a bag of chocolate chips and a bowl of ice cream weren't enough for today.

"You should get it." Rachel said, gesturing to the book, which was open to a page on elephants. Quinn nodded vaguely, and Rachel caught her muffin crumbs before they could fall into the clean pages.

What a slob. Repulsive slob. How could anybody like her? Quinn was too focused on the elephants to care, and Rachel smiled to herself. She ate her own muffin, and then watched Quinn read for a moment.

"You know, you could take some college classes, Quinn. Like maybe some animal science courses, and be able to get a job at the zoo…or something." Rachel said carefully, crumpling up the wrapper of her banana muffin.

Quinn looked at her with wide eyes, cheeks puffed out with food. She hurried to swallow. "You think I could work at the zoo?"

Rachel nodded enthusiastically. God, Quinn could do anything she wanted. Rachel could see it now: Quinn the zookeeper. Playing with the tigers. One with the hippos. They would love her.

"If you wanted to. You're the smartest person I know, bear. The animal rescue is amazing, but you can't really, you know, move up. Right?"

Quinn nodded thoughtfully. Rachel smiled at her softly and brushed some crumbs off of Quinn's face. It was still flushed from their earlier encounter, and Rachel kept a cool hand on one of Quinn's cheeks.

"Just remember you don't have to do anything you don't want to, okay. Me and Barnesy and Seal and Jelly aren't letting you go anywhere anytime soon."

God, she said it out loud. Seal. Never again.

Quinn grinned and carefully set her muffin down, focusing on it like it was a volatile bomb or something, before leaning forward onto her hands and heading straight for Rachel's lips. Rachel was pleasantly surprised, and she had to use her arms to prevent herself from rolling backwards.

Being caught flat on her back in a bookstore aisle couldn't be beneficial to her career. Well, actually, it probably could, since her career was Broadway. Passion. Love in the aisles of Barnes & Noble. She could see it now.

But Quinn was wrinkling her book. And about to knock over her muffin. She would be devastated.

"Mmm, honey," Rachel said, "not here. You're muffin's gonna roll ov-"

Rachel didn't even finish her sentence before Quinn pulled back like she'd been scalded, to rescue her muffin. Rachel straightened the pages of the elephants, and brushed herself off slightly huffily.

Well, okay then. The muffin is fine. Everybody calm down. The muffin is okay.

She looked over to see Quinn trying to fit three quarters of the muffin in her mouth at once.

Well, somebody was in a hurry. Rachel raised her eyebrows in amusement.

"Wegz geddi ag own ome." Quinn said. Rachel stared at her, and then wiped off the chocolate Quinn had spat on her face.

Quinn smiled apologetically, which was completely unattractive, and picked up the book carefully before pulling Rachel to her feet.

"Let's get this and go home." Quinn said again after taking about two minutes to swallow. She held the book in one hand, and Rachel's hand in the other.

Rachel swung it excitedly. "To research some classes?"

Quinn' determined bravado faded a little, and her glance flitted away as Rachel looked up at her.

"Yeah." She bit her lip and continued. "And I…wanna kiss you some more. And-and do…other things." Quinn said quietly.

Oh, well then. Rachel glanced around as her face caught fire to make sure the other people in line hadn't heard that. If they had, well, "other things" could totally be…knitting. Drinking. Exorcising puppies. Looking up hit men.

All plausible. None probable.

Except rolling around in bed for a bit with her gorgeous girlfriend who tasted like chocolate right now, and whose new favorite toy was Rachel's body.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: To answer a question, no, Rachel and Quinn haven't had sex yet. I'll give you more than an ambiguous sentence when that happens. Thanks for reading, everybody!

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 16: Sit Back and Wave through the Daylight**

Rachel had woken up in the morning to "exercise" on her giant rubber yoga balls, so of course no exercise actually occurred, and now she found herself dancing like a spaz around her living room to Matt & Kim. She was really just flailing around because the beat was all over the place, and pretending to know the words, so, yelling gibberish into a dog brush.

Filled with fluffy golden hair. Rachel hoped it was Barnaby's.

Cornelius joined her, with the singing, not the dancing because Barnaby seemed to have that covered, and yeah, she was pretty sure their neighbors would be filing some kind of complaint soon. How could they not with this fucking racket?

Rachel was in the middle of tripping over Jelly during a horribly executed moonwalk when Quinn stumbled into the living room, brows furrowed and looking confused as hell. She was cognizant enough to smile when she caught sight of Rachel.

"Quinn!" Rachel exclaimed brightly, after apologizing profusely to Jelly and setting her safely on the couch.

Rachel rushed over to her girlfriend and hugged her warm, sleepy body tightly. She held onto Quinn's hands when she pulled back.

"Dance with me!" Rachel attempted to drag Quinn towards the center of the living room, but Quinn leaned backwards like dead weight and wouldn't budge.

Rachel looked back at her, and then down at Quinn's feet and huffed. Really, the least her girlfriend could do is dance with her. Before they get evicted or fined or something. And before anyone gets injured.

"Quinn, dance with me!" Rachel demanded again, pulling harder. Quinn leaned back further, then lay down on the floor so that she was an immovable lump. Rachel would be concerned she'd fainted or something if she didn't have that fucking smile on her face.

Rachel stared down at her exasperatedly. She put a foot on Quinn's stomach when she heard it rumbling. Uh-oh. Time to feed her bear.

First the bear had to dance. Rachel moved her foot up to Quinn's face and pressed her toes into smiling cheeks. Quinn had her eyes shut.

Yeah, like she was fooling anybody.

"If you don't get up and dance with me Quinn, I'll put my foot over your mouth." Rachel threatened. She figured that would be gross enough to get anybody to do anything. Unless Quinn was some pervy foot person.

Rachel smiled to herself. Quinn wasn't a pervy anything.

"I like your feet." Quinn commented, eyes still closed. That damn smile was getting even bigger, and she reached out a hand and picked up Rachel's foot and kissed it, before opening one eye with a smirk.

Rachel bit the inside of her cheek. Goddamned Quinn and her goddamned sweetness. She was impossible to coerce. And Rachel had no cookies. She listened to Quinn's tummy rumble again, and decided to use breakfast as a bribe instead.

"Quinn, if you don't dance with me, I won't make you blueberry waffles with chocolate smiley faces again for breakfast."

Quinn's eyes shot open and she dropped that innocent little smirk. She sat up and leaned back on her hands so she could look at Rachel. Well God, she looked distraught. That's what blueberry waffles with chocolate smiley faces do to people.

"Rachel, I can't-I can't dance." Quinn stuttered. "Can you- can you dance with Barnaby?"

Rachel's victorious grin softened at Quinn's tone. "No, honey, I want to dance with you. And I can't dance either. I look like I have no bones in my body."

Which, really, that should make you look like an amazing dancer, right? Not so much for Rachel. It was a problem she dealt with every day.

Quinn looked conflicted, so Rachel left her sitting on the floor and bounded off to turn up the volume, neighbors be damned. She wasn't actually sure she had any neighbors, because she never saw them. They were probably serial killers or something, just minding their own business.

Not evacuating during fire alarms.

Rachel jumped up on the coffee table, successfully managing to not kill herself, and executed an exaggerated "cabbage patch", before transitioning not so smoothly into the oh-so-famous "sprinkler". She sang along with the song because she actually knew the words this time, before realizing they weren't actually the right words and she was just repeating the same wrong line over and over again.

But, it was an awesome line. Rachel rocked it.

She watched Quinn trying to contain her laughter. Alright, just be a fool a little longer, Rachel. Almost got her.

It was only when Rachel moved on to a disco and nearly chopped her fingers off with the ceiling fan, that Quinn moved hesitantly towards her. Rachel wasted no time in grabbing Quinn's hands and spinning her around a couple times, reveling in the laughter and making herself dizzy.

She was about to pull Quinn up onto the coffee table, but she really didn't want to decapitate her girlfriend with the fan. Quinn let herself be maneuvered by Rachel, and eventually started her own conga line with Barnaby.

"Quinn, you're an awesome dancer!" Rachel proclaimed as she watched Quinn break into a spontaneous "running man," blonde hair bouncing about wildly. She really was. Rachel's girl had moves, man. And in those fuzzy reindeer pajamas…mmhmm.

Quinn shook her head, laughing and flushing brightly. Rachel didn't know if it was from exertion or embarrassment. She knew her own flush came from exertion. Really, she'd been dancing exaggeratedly stupidly for, like, half an hour, and she was dying. Maybe she should work out more. With something more than those useless fucking balls.

Quinn collapsed on the floor and all the animals migrated straight to her lap. And for those who couldn't fit, still to her lap. They would make some damn room. Apparently Barnaby didn't know he looked like a fool. Good for him.

Rachel attempted to do "the worm" over to them, and then crawled the rest of the way after deciding that she now needed an appointment with a gastroenterologist to fix her internal organs. Quinn couldn't seem to find it in herself to stop laughing.

Rachel was too damn exhausted to stop her though, so she just shoved Quinn in the shoulder and then collapsed into her side, breathing heavily. God, it was nine a.m. and she needed to go back to bed.

"We should exercise more." Rachel wheezed out, playing with Jelly's ears. She wanted to turn the music down so she would be able to hear Quinn, but…it was way over there.

Quinn seemed to brighten for a second. Uh-oh, Rachel prepared herself to be dragged into a game. Or fed candy. Or blindsided with animal trivia. You know, it really didn't deserve an "uh-oh," it deserved a "bring it on."

"I know what we can do." Quinn stated, looking at Rachel with bright eyes. How had she recovered so quickly? Rachel was the Broadway star. Quinn was just a ball of sugary energy.

Rachel smiled at her and squeezed her thigh. "What can we do, honey?"

Quinn rocked forward onto her knees and faced Rachel.

"There's a 5k run in-in Central Park to celebrate the start of spring and to-to raise-the-there's lots-"

Rachel chuckled and squeezed Quinn's thigh harder. Whatever this was, she knew she'd be doing it. Despite the fact that she'd heard "5k" and her first instinct was to leap off the balcony.

"Slower, bear." She said, moving up onto her knees.

Quinn swallowed. "To raise awareness for-for animal adoption. A dog run."

God, could Cornelius make it 5 kilometers? Really, stamina-wise he could easily, but demon-weirdo-puppy-wise he'd end up in a lake in New Jersey chasing after a duck or something. With whomever he was dragging along on his leash.

Rachel already knew they'd end up with another fucking animal from this thing. She looked at the half-blind sweetheart kitten in her lap and the sweetheart girlfriend rocking backwards and forwards in front of her. It could actually be really good for Quinn. There were bound to be quite a few people.

And she'd be surrounded by dogs. Dogs _everywhere_. It would be Quinn-heaven.

"Yeah, we could do that." Rachel said with a smile. She ruffled Quinn's hair fondly, and laughed when Quinn tackled her and kissed her, nearly slamming their heads into the wall.

Quinn just got so excited about little things. It really made life more fun.

"Will you make me blueberry waffles with chocolate smiley faces now?" Quinn asked eagerly when she pulled back.

Rachel nodded, expecting and accepting the kiss that came her way. She finally turned off the music when she went in to the kitchen, and she kicked the useless yoga balls out into the living room for Quinn to play with.

Time to feed her grumbly bear.

~oooooooooo~

After Rachel's show that night, she and Quinn found themselves strolling through Central Park instead of heading straight home. In the dark. And the cold. Rachel was nearly dead on her feet, and she was fully expecting to come across some kind of crime scene and Law & Order team, but Quinn was happily babbling on about how male ostriches can roar like lions, and how hippo milk is pink, so Rachel was content.

Rachel was forced to cut Quinn off when her girlfriend mentioned that cows produce two hundred times more gas per day than humans. She did not need that knowledge in her brain. Unfortunately, Quinn switched to the topic of octopuses eating their own arms under stress, and Rachel had to slap a hand over Quinn's mouth before any pictures could form in her mind.

She was too late. And she was completely disgusted.

She wanted to eat her own arm.

"I'm ready to meet your cast." Quinn blurted, after licking Rachel's hand to remove it from her mouth. Rachel stopped wondering if people could stay conscious long enough to eat their own body parts.

She looked at Quinn, who hopped onto the curb to balance while Rachel walked beside her. Because it was dark. And Quinn wasn't a gymnast. And somebody was going to break an ankle.

And _somehow _it was most likely to be Rachel.

"Tomorrow?" Rachel asked, surprise evident in her voice.

Quinn glanced at her and slipped slightly, and Rachel caught her hand.

"Um, yeah. Tom said-he said it would be a…controlled environment. And, you know these people…you're with them every day, so-so I should meet them. I mean, I want to meet them."

Rachel smiled encouragingly, watching Quinn's feet because Quinn was watching her. "They'll love you, Quinn!" she proclaimed brightly. "We can do it before the show tomorrow. In my dressing room maybe? Or, no, how about at home? So, you know, you'll be comfortable and-"

"Wherever you want, Rach." Quinn interjected, smiling nervously and focusing back on the curb.

She jumped down when it came to an end, and walked quietly next to Rachel for a few minutes. Rachel's thoughts were racing. She wondered if her cast could behave, and if she should mention that her fathers were visiting in two weeks.

She probably should. Definitely should. Quinn slept in her bed with her, so, you know, she'd find out eventually. When they showed up on her doorstep.

"Hey, bear." Rachel said hesitantly. Quinn stopped twirling the belt on her coat like it was a light saber, and looked down at Rachel.

"My dads are visiting in two weeks. They like to come, you know, every few months, unless I go back to Ohio, but, um…You don't have to meet them, and I can pay for a hotel, and-"

"What, no!" Quinn blurted, stopping and stepping in front of Rachel so that Rachel walked right into her. "Don't send them-I wanna meet your parents. They can stay with us, right? Don't they-don't they want to meet me?" Quinn asked, hazel eyes darting between Rachel's.

God. Rachel didn't have words for how much her dads wanted to meet Quinn. The woman was a faceless description to them, and they already loved her more than they loved Rachel. It was a little bit ridiculous, actually.

But totally understandable.

Rachel didn't even mind answering their constant questions of "How's Quinn doing today?" and "How are her animals?" and "What kind of cookies did you make her for breakfast today?" Really, the questions were on Rachel's favorite subject.

She smiled softly at Quinn and took her hands. Her freezing cold hands because Quinn had lost her mittens on one of their walks. How that happened, Rachel had no idea. You weren't supposed to take your mittens off in the middle of a walk. Quinn obviously said "fuck that" and did it anyway.

Rachel rubbed the cold hands and then stepped closer and stuck them in her own jacket pockets to warm up.

"Honey, my dads adore you. _Of course_ they want to meet you. But they're crazier than me, which is, you know, saying something," Rachel grinned when Quinn snorted and covered her nose. "They're really… lively for old men, and I think they're under the impression that you're already their second daughter."

God knows where they got that from.

"I just wanted to make sure you'd be okay with it."

Rachel could feel Quinn's fingers tapping inside her pockets. Quinn was nodding though, earnest eyes locked on Rachel's.

"I want to meet the people who made you." She stated.

Rachel smiled and leaned up and kissed her. Quinn's breath was warm, and her mouth was warm, and Rachel just wanted to curl up inside it and-wait, no. That was weird.

She let Quinn hold her close and sighed contentedly into Quinn's chest.

"Did you know it's physically impossible for pigs to look at the sky?" Rachel said quietly.

She had no idea how she knew that. It was the most fucking useless information she had stored in her brain, but it was one of those facts that you hear once, and it just takes up valuable space for the rest of your life.

Quinn pulled back and looked at her with bright, wide eyes, reflecting the moon and the city lights.

Oh fuck. Rachel hadn't thought this through.

Now she'd have to find a pig to prove this fact to her wonderstruck girlfriend.

~oooooooooo~

"I want to buy the purple ones." Quinn stated, lying on her stomach on the living room floor and staring determinedly at the Monopoly board.

Rachel smiled and rolled the dice. "Then you have to land on them, honey."

Shit. A four. Luxury tax instead of Boardwalk. Rachel wanted to buy the blue ones so that she could construct some hotels and bankrupt anybody who came her way. Specifically Santana, who had been lording her house-filled green set over everybody for twenty minutes.

God knows why Quinn wanted the purple ones. Baltic and Mediterranean were fucking worthless.

Still, Quinn stared at the board like she was looking for a loophole. A way to acquire the purple properties without actually landing on them. She pouted when she wasn't successful, and Rachel smiled and shoved her lightly in the shoulder.

"Puck, stop stealing from the bank." Santana demanded, flipping over a Community Chest card and scowling when she was sent directly to jail. Puck had mortgaged all his properties and was simply desperately trying to pass go without landing on a piece of Santana's empire. Rachel couldn't blame him for stealing from the bank.

He'd have to declare bankruptcy like Brittany had an hour ago. Or seven hours ago. How long had they been playing this fucking game?

Quinn chuckled as Santana's little bag of money game piece made its way to jail, and faltered only slightly when Santana glared at her.

"Did you-did you know kangaroos can't walk backwards?" Quinn asked her when Santana's eyes didn't waver, rolling the dice and moving her little dog game piece to one of Rachel's hotels on the yellow properties.

Santana's glare turned into a plain stare. Rachel smiled to herself and collected twelve hundred dollars from Quinn's dwindling pile of fake money. And then she surreptitiously put five hundred back because Quinn would be broke soon, and all she wanted to do was buy the purple properties.

"They-their tails, um, get in the way." Quinn continued, looking at Santana. Santana wasn't saying anything. She probably wanted to see how long Quinn could talk about kangaroos.

Rachel knew they could be there all day.

"Did you know pig orgasms last for thirty minutes?" Puck asked nonchalantly, knocking Rachel's horse game piece over as he rolled the die. And landed on Santana's railroad. And declared bankruptcy.

But, God, Rachel couldn't ignore a statement like that. Could anybody? It just forced her to think about what a half hour orgasm would feel like. It would be fatal, right? Had anybody actually died of an orgasm?

Rachel forced her mouth closed and glanced at Quinn, who was bright red and building a tower out of the little green houses.

"I've totally done that before!" Brittany proclaimed brightly from the couch where she was tying multicolored thread around Jelly's neck to make a collar. Or to strangle the kitten. Rachel was watching them closely.

And then she realized what Brittany said.

No. No way. They were not having a conversation like this. Santana was smiling some kind of shit-eating grin and Puck was going on about swine mating habits, and then there was a knock at the door and a few of Rachel's cast members walked in.

Thank God.

"Hi guys!" Rachel greeted a little too loudly. She gestured for Quinn to roll off her stomach and sit up. Quinn obliged, and quietly watched the boisterous bunch make their way to the living room, collapsing onto various surfaces like they owned the place.

"Okay, you guys all know Santana, and Puck, and Brittany," Rachel gestured to her friends as she slipped onto the couch Quinn's back was up against. She placed her hands on Quinn's fluffy head in front of her like duck-duck-goose. "And this is my girlfriend, Quinn."

Quinn twisted around and looked up at Rachel, and Rachel smiled at her and nodded encouragingly.

"Quinn, this is James, and Alison, and that old guy over there is Matt." Rachel smiled at her castmates. "You know them as Nick Arnstein, Georgia James, and Mr. Ziegfeld."

Quinn gave everybody a half-wave and a small smile. "You're all-you're all very, very talented. I've seen every show for the past month." She said, pushing back into Rachel's legs.

Rachel ran her hands through the blonde hair in front of her, trying to make it into some kind of mohawk. She grinned when Quinn squirmed.

"Rachel!" James exclaimed from his position in one of the armchairs. "Your girlfriend's actually real! And even more beautiful than you said!"

Okay, yeah, back off buddy. James winked at Rachel when Quinn flushed and turned her face so it was half-pressed into Rachel's knee.

Rachel smiled at him.

"So, what are we doing?" Alison asked brightly, sitting cross-legged next to Santana. "Monopoly?"

Yeah, for the last fucking seven hours.

"And we were talking about animals and pig orgasms." Puck drawled with a smirk. Her castmates brightened visibly. What the hell kind of people was she working with?

Rachel chose to ignore them and rolled the die, purposely knocking the money bag piece over, but landing on another of Santana's damn hotels. Rachel was forced to mortgage all her properties to pay her rent.

Now her income was gone. She was stranded on New York Avenue. And she was a roll away from being thrown in jail. It was like real life.

Rachel wondered what it would be like if Monopoly was real life. Everything would end in tears and fights and flying game pieces.

Well, no. If it was Monopoly it would _never fucking end_.

"…Yeah, I'm sure we could go to a farm that has some pigs that could demonstrate-"

"Noah!" Rachel exclaimed, stopping herself just short of clamping her hands over Quinn's ears. She squeezed Quinn's shoulders tightly instead, and briefly wondered if this pig farm could prove that pigs can't look at the sky. She thought this damn conversation had ended already.

Quinn squirmed out of her hold and sat up, squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath. "I think we should, um, we can talk about something else, like how giraffe tongues are seventeen inches long."

Uh.

Quinn swallowed in the silence, and shifted nervously. Rachel absently patted her head like a puppy. She was too busy wondering if she was the only one sexually euphemizing every comment that was made now. Hopefully not.

That just could not be good.

Matt was the first to speak. "Oh my God." He remarked, staring at Quinn. He looked impressed. Probably not by Quinn, but by the sheer length of giraffes' tongues. Rachel was impressed too. She wondered what they used them for.

God, pervert. Control your fucking thoughts, Rachel.

Santana was eyeing her with a smug smile, and Rachel flushed for a moment before realizing it was because Rachel had landed on her railroad again and was now bankrupt. She groaned and leaned forward, pressing her face into the mess of blonde hair.

And then she realized she didn't have to play anymore, and sat straight back up with a huge grin. Yes! She was bankrupt!

Unfortunately, Quinn refused to give up until she got to buy the purple properties, so the game went on for another hour or so. Or several. Or ten. Rachel's castmates got her to keep spewing animal facts, which kept all of them entertained.

Yeah, she was a keeper. Rachel knew this.

She gasped when Quinn rolled a five and seized Quinn's shoulders, waiting for her girlfriend to realize what she'd landed on. Quinn stilled, and then blurted an unintelligible noise of victory, looking up at Rachel with a massive grin.

"I got the other purple one!"

Rachel laughed, and she and Puck and Brittany helped Quinn scrounge up enough play money to buy the property.

"Santana, you own half the board. Stop scowling." James remarked, slipping Quinn a hundred from the bank. Not so much slipping, as blatantly handing it across the middle of the board so that everybody could see.

Pssht, whatever. Quinn owned her purple properties.

She landed on one of Santana's hotels her next go, and abruptly declared bankruptcy. With a smile on her face.

Fucking Santana. She was some kind of god at this game. A real estate tycoon. Probably because she had no qualms about manipulating people out of fake money, or selling her properties for seven times their actual value.

Rachel was in the middle of prying the little metal game pieces out of Barnaby's mouth when it finally hit her.

The game was over. She had finished a game of Monopoly. She didn't think that was possible. And she'd _lost_. Oh my God, they'd just have to have a rematch sometime. When everybody had a week of their lives to spare.

Quinn actually gave James, Alison, and Matt goodbye hugs as they left. They were spontaneous and bear-like, like most Quinn hugs, and Rachel was proud of her. And her cast. For only talking about pig orgasms for about half an hour.

Rachel was climbing into bed that night when Quinn skipped out of the bathroom, mouth filled with toothpaste foam and brush in hand.

"Did you know some lions mate over fifty times a day?" Quinn asked through the foam, covering her mouth with her hand to keep the toothpaste in.

Wow. Just finish brushing your teeth, woman. Before you saunter out here and give Rachel a damn heart attack.

Because, oh my God. Rachel was not prepared for things like that.

Quinn was gonna kill her.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: I hope everybody had a marvelous, safe Christmas (or a wonderful Sunday) and ate themselves into a coma. Thank you for dragging yourselves out of it to read this.

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 17: Walk a Little Walk, Smile, Talk Big Thoughts**

Quinn wondered why all the waiting rooms she seemed to be in lately had fish tanks. Well, okay, only two, but still. Quinn didn't even have _one_ fish tank. She should look into that. They definitely grabbed people's attention, especially if the fish were tropical or predatory or…jellyfish. Or octopus. And they were calming. Quinn's nerves about meeting one of the advisors in NYU's admissions office were fading.

But they were still there. Just under the surface.

She focused on the starfish clinging to the glass instead of the college students in various states of distress sitting around her.

What were they there for? Failing exams. Dropping classes. Adding classes. Adding useless classes that have nothing to do with their majors. Trying to wheedle their way into filled-up chem labs.

Quinn was early, which was surprising, considering she'd spent fifteen extra minutes kissing Rachel when she woke up. And then ten catching Cornelius when he'd bolted out the front door and down the building's hallway. Rachel had taken him from Quinn, shaking her head fondly, and then gone back to bed after wishing Quinn luck.

Now Quinn stared at the starfish with a smile on her face.

"I'm gonna fail. I'm gonna _fail_. Fuck. Fuck. I'm fucked. There's no way. I'm gonna fail." A young guy exited the advisor's office, obviously in full-on finals freak-out mode. He rubbed at his face frantically and glanced at Quinn distractedly as he headed to the exit.

Quinn smiled at him. Calmly. Happily. It just looked like he needed that. A smile to let him know there were people and life outside of finals. He stopped rubbing his face, and dropped his hands and smiled back.

Kind of. He looked sort of like a crazed zombie, and Quinn hoped he wouldn't come too close to her. But he took a deep breath and smiled and nodded to Quinn as he walked out the door. Quinn looked back at the starfish.

"Ms. Fabray." The advisor called, leaning halfway out of her office door and waving Quinn over. "You can come in now."

Quinn took a deep breath and filled her mind with pictures of what she was here for. The zoo. She wanted to work with the zoo animals professionally. She wanted to study their behavior and contribute to their well-being.

She could handle college now. She hadn't been ready for Columbia, but she _would _make this happen for herself at NYU.

Quinn was calm, for the most part, as she sat in the chair across from Dr. Regan's desk. Her legs bounced up and down, but she sat up straight, ready to make a good impression.

The advisor looked like a Toucan. Or iguana. Some exotic animal with orange-framed glasses and bright eyes. Quinn wanted glasses like that.

"Hello, Quinn." Dr. Regan greeted, folding her hands in front of her and giving Quinn her full attention. "Thank you for expressing interest in NYU. What can we do for you today?"

Quinn took another deep breath. She remembered Dr. Madison and Rachel telling her "words." Pictures and words. Quinn could do that. There was a grizzly bear in her mind when she met Dr. Regan's eyes and held her gaze.

"I'm interested to know what kind of programs you offer in the field of animal sciences." She said steadily.

"Okay, that's great." Dr. Regan said enthusiastically, pulling a stack of pamphlets out from under her desk. Quinn wondered what else was under there. What if there was a trap door? What if this NYU advisor had sole access to Wonderland or Narnia?

No. No, Quinn. Focus. Grizzly bear.

"We don't offer an animal sciences _major,_ but most of our pre-vet students major in biology, and just tack on the classes that the vet schools require. Are you interested in pre-vet?"

Quinn swallowed. "I want to…work at the zoo. I mean, yeah, I'd be interested in pre-vet. But I'd-I'd probably focus on getting the Bachelor's degree first, and then decide if I want to take it to vet school."

Dr. Regan nodded agreeably. "Yeah, you definitely have time to decide. You just need to consider, if you do pre-vet, you need to start getting your vet experience now. You know, volunteering, working with a vet, and with animals in any context."

Quinn listened carefully. She stopped tapping her fingers and bouncing her legs, and the bear vanished from her mind. She focused wholly on what she needed to do to make this happen.

"Even if you don't do pre-vet," Dr. Regan continued, "your best bet for any sort of animal career would be a major in biology, and a minor in animal studies. Since you're not coming to us straight out of high school, you may be interested in our accelerated degree program. If you start this summer as a full-time student, you can have your bio degree in two years. You just have to take a few tests to qualify for the program."

Quinn nodded slowly. That sounded…perfect. She rocked in her chair a little bit and thought of what to ask first. There was just so much.

"What kind financial aid do you offer?" Then she scrunched up her face because, of all the colors and pictures and possibilities and opportunities swirling around in her head, that's what came out.

Dr. Regan smiled. "Well the university offers hundreds of scholarships, ranging from a hundred dollars to full-tuition. Everybody qualifies for something. You just have to be proactive in seeking them out and applying. Plus, I don't know your financial situation, but there's always federal aid that students can apply for."

"Do you allow dogs on your campus?" Quinn realized this probably shouldn't be a legitimate priority, but, no, she regretted nothing.

"We do. Not in classrooms, of course."

Okay. Quinn could handle that. Cornelius probably wouldn't do well in a classroom setting anyway. Or any setting. He was just unwell in general.

"How many credit hours would I have to take to be a full time student? And what, um, what kind of classes would a biology degree involve?" Quinn consciously slowed her speech because she could feel that excitement building up, and she knew she was rocking, and her heart was beating very fast.

She sat on her hands and watched Dr. Regan with bright eyes.

"You would need twelve credit hours per semester. Your core classes would be chemistry, and all its levels, you know, general, organic, etcetera. As well as biology, and then you build up into microbiology, physics, genetics, and biochemistry. If you minor in animal studies, you'll also take zoological and behavioral classes. But with the accelerated program you wouldn't need as many electives of english, social sciences, history, things like that."

Wait. Quinn frowned. What about her books? She wanted to study them. She wanted professors who loved these imaginary lands and the people who created them, to teach her everything they knew.

"But I can take english and literature if I want, right?" she asked, twirling a rubber band around her list.

Dr. Regan looked a little surprised, but smiled. "Of course. A lot of science majors just try to avoid that, because, you know, it's not an easy major, Quinn. I want to make sure you know what you're getting into."

Quinn's eyes flickered down to Dr. Regan's collar for a moment, and she took a deep breath before determinedly looking back up.

"I know-I know it won't be easy. But I'm ready for a challenge. I've been…challenged a lot lately. And I feel like I'm learning and improving myself, and I can handle this."

Quinn could feel that excitement brewing again. That jumpy uncontainable feeling in her stomach and her heart that made her rock back and forth because she couldn't contain it. She blinked exaggeratedly to clear the pictures in her mind.

Words, bear.

Quinn pictured Rachel. Rachel and her lovely brown eyes lying underneath Quinn that morning, hair a mess and refusing to get out of bed because it was "too damn early for a Broadway star to be awake." She couldn't refuse Quinn's kisses though.

Quinn had known this. She liked to use it to her advantage.

Quinn pictured Barnaby, and Cornelius, and Jelly, stealing the waffles off the counter, and then wagging their tails and wrapping themselves around her legs when she gave them waffles for breakfast the next morning.

They liked waffles. They obviously wanted waffles. Quinn would give them waffles.

She pictured Santana's blue lion cake and Kurt's understanding blue eyes, Puck's wink and Brittany's hugs.

Quinn pictured everything, because it was all just so wonderful, and it made her feel welcomed and accepted and excited, and she just couldn't contain it. She drummed her fingers against her legs and kept up her rocking and smiled confidently at Dr. Regan.

"Ma'am, I got a 2340 on the SATs. I got a 32 on the ACTs, and my GPA when I applied to Columbia was a weighted 5.8. I didn't attend, because I had some-I _have_ some issues that I'm working on, and that I'm getting better with, and I _know_ I can do this. Did you know that penguins can jump six feet in the air?"

Yeah. That's what she said.

Quinn forced herself to stop to see if Dr. Regan would answer. She didn't. She just sat with a small smile on her face and her gaze transfixed on Quinn. Quinn didn't falter. Her mouth and her heart wouldn't let her.

Plus, Quinn realized it was a random question and she wanted to hurry and make her point. Rachel and Tom would be proud. She just could not stop the words.

"I know a lot of things like that, and they're-right now, they're completely useless. But I also know the functional groups in organic chemistry, you know, alcohols, amides, carboxylic acids, which are like a mix of carbonyl and hydroxyl. I _know_ these things. Schoolwork will _never_ be a problem."

Quinn paused and took a breath. Not because she felt like she was about to start tumbling over her words, but because she literally couldn't breathe. This is what Rachel must feel like.

God, Rachel. Quinn's smile grew even wider.

"I have a job too, working at an animal rescue, which I actually run when the manager can't make it in or we're understaffed. I just-I'm…"

Quinn licked her lips and stared straight into Dr. Regan's green eyes.

"I can do this. I'm ready to do this, and I want to do this at NYU." She finished quietly.

Dr. Regan took a deep breath and raised her eyebrows with a sort of awed expression on her face. It was a few moments before she spoke, and Quinn spent the time frantically running through everything she'd said to make sure it was all appropriate.

She just couldn't remember what she'd said. God, she'd mentioned jumping penguins. And carboxylic acid. Why had she done that? The zombie guy she'd met in the lobby earlier would know that's a mood killer. A conversation _destroyer_.

"Quinn, I think NYU would be lucky to have you this summer." Dr. Regan finally said. Quinn let out a deep breath. A really, really deep breath. She was seriously oxygen deprived after that.

"You're smart, you're passionate…And there's a layer, or an element, or a _mixture_ of elements that most people don't have. If I've answered al l your questions, well, I look forward to seeing you in June."

Quinn stood up and shook Dr. Regan's hand in a daze. She was flushed after that, and just so exhausted, but _so_ proud of herself. She couldn't wait to meet Rachel for lunch, and she stopped next to the fish tank on her way out to just stare at the starfish for five minutes with a relieved smile on her face.

Baby steps were turning into big steps.

Quinn walked all the way to the café without stepping on the sidewalk cracks. Because it was fun. And it gave her mind something to do.

And it made the people around her smile. She liked seeing people smile.

~oooooooooo~

"You look beautiful."

Quinn wasn't sure if Rachel heard her, she was too busy spinning around in the pale green vintage dress she was trying on in the thrift store. Quinn chuckled when her girlfriend twirled right into a mannequin, and then apologized to it before flushing and realizing it wasn't actually alive.

Quinn would probably apologize too, even if she knew what she was speaking to was a mannequin. She'd seen Twilight Zone. She knew what they could do, which is why she stood a good ten feet away from the dummy.

Rachel bounded over to her happily. "You like?"

Quinn nodded enthusiastically. She loved. She would love it even more without the dress on.

Wait.

"You look beautiful." Quinn repeated to distract Rachel from the flush that she could feel creeping across her cheeks.

Rachel looked down shyly and then leaned up and kissed her. Quinn loved this. How Rachel fit perfectly in her arms and would put her head on Quinn's shoulder so that Quinn could feel warm breath on her neck. A warm body that wanted to be closer to her. As close as possible.

Like Barnaby and Cornelius when they tried to steal Quinn's pillow nightly, and ended up breathing into her eyeballs and slobbering on her neck.

Only Rachel was nicer.

"Should I buy it?" Rachel asked, stepping back and twirling again, keeping a good distance between her and the mannequins.

Quinn nodded and bounced on her heels. She still hadn't told Rachel how the meeting had gone, and she knew Rachel wouldn't drag it out of her. But Quinn was excited, and she was getting ready to burst.

And then she _really_ focused on Rachel and found herself _really_ excited.

"The-the length's good for you. It flatters your legs. And the color makes me think of the ocean. And whales. And dolphins."

Quinn wasn't just listing animals to distract her mind from Rachel's legs, because that was impossible. They were just so long, and beautiful, and soft, and-dolphins. Dolphins. Dolphins. Dolphins.

The color really did remind Quinn of whales and dolphins. She didn't know why, but it was…relaxing.

Rachel was watching her with a smile.

Quinn squirmed a little. "And, um, it goes with your skin tone."

Rachel kept looking at her. What else was there to say about a dress? Without, you know, starting up about the legs? Quinn got lost in those knowing eyes and just burst.

"Rachel, I'm going to go to NYU for two years as a full-time student starting this summer, so I can get a biology degree with-with a minor in animal studies. I'll pay for it with financial aid, and savings, and my job, and I get-I get-I want-"

Quinn cut herself off and swallowed and pictured the starfish in the waiting room. Rachel's jaw had dropped open a little, and her eyes had widened, and Quinn could tell she was listening closely. Patiently.

Quinn hoped Rachel could make out what she was saying. She was just so excited.

"I get to take animal classes, and literature classes as well, if-if I want. The campus and the buildings are beautiful, and I'm…I'm doing this."

Rachel gazed at her for a second to make sure she was done, and then stepped forward and wrapped Quinn in a hug. Rachel smelled like marshmallows. Quinn liked that.

"You will be amazing, Quinn."

Quinn smiled and kissed Rachel's head. She rocked the both of them side to side, feeling so much better now that the buzzing energy in her stomach had been released. Quinn knew it was in Rachel now.

Her girlfriend just picked up on enthusiasm and excitement, magnified it tenfold, and then projected it out on everybody around her in the form of talent and loud, contagious laughter.

When Rachel pulled herself together and changed back into her normal clothes, Quinn led her over to the spinning sunglass rack and twirled it around, looking for something that caught her eye.

Too boring. Too boring. Nice, but black. Too boring. Okay, but silver. Boring. _Boring_.

Rachel tried on some black faux-Ray Bans and turned to Quinn, twirling her hands around in the vague direction of her face. "You like?"

No. Quinn did not like. She couldn't see Rachel's eyes.

Quinn shook her head seriously, and Rachel's expression fell for a second before reading glasses were placed carefully on her face. The last thing Quinn wanted to do was poke her girlfriend's eye out.

She wondered if anybody's eye had ever actually been "poked out," because it didn't seem possible. Removing an eyeball by poking it with an oblong object. Quinn probably wouldn't advise anybody to test it out, but…God. Focus.

Quinn was pleased with herself. Now Rachel's brown eyes were actually magnified. Quinn smiled.

Rachel moved to take a step towards Quinn, but her depth perception or balance or something was thrown off, so she swayed and grabbed onto the sunglass tower instead. Those glasses were entertaining. Quinn would definitely buy them.

She tried on a cheapo neon green pair of regular sunglasses for herself, knowing that the black ones would be more attractive, but the green ones would make Rachel laugh. Quinn turned to look at Rachel completely seriously.

"I want these."

Rachel narrowed her eyes, then gave up and took off the reading glasses, blinked a few times, apparently almost vomited from dizziness, and then started laughing that crazy contagious laugh.

Yep, Quinn would definitely buy these.

She loved seeing Rachel smile. She loved _making_ Rachel smile.

~oooooooooo~

Quinn had wanted to cancel her therapy session that day, because the NYU meeting meant it would have to be pushed back and she'd miss Rachel's show. But Tom said it was an important session, and Quinn knew she'd have to start missing a lot of shows for school, and Puck said he'd go and make sure Rachel was as fantastic as always, so Quinn agreed.

She sat across from Dr. Madison with Henry in her lap, singing the words to "Tutti Frutti" in her head. She didn't actually know all the words. Or if it even had any words aside from "Tutti Frutti, all rooty," so she just replayed that part over and over again. Because Rachel had earlier that day, and apparently Quinn's girlfriend felt the need to drag somebody else down with her.

She was just about ready to jump off the roof when Tom clasped his hands and stared into her eyes. _God_, she could not shut off this song.

"Asperger's." He said.

Quinn swallowed and maintained eye contact, leaning forward in her chair a little and picturing her neon green glasses and Rachel's magnified eyes. "Asperger's."

Tom nodded. "After getting to know you these past few weeks, I'm comfortable in confirming that you have Asperger's Syndrome."

Quinn could feel her breathing getting shallower, and her eyes drifted down to the buttons on Tom's shirt, but she nodded slowly.

"Okay." She said quietly, scratching furiously at one of Henry's tentacles.

Tom didn't say anything, just sat and watched her with an open expression.

Quinn fidgeted in her seat. She wasn't surprised, really. She'd been told she had Asperger's before, but, you know, she'd been told a lot of things. She actually believed Tom. And he looked calm and content and caring, so…Quinn took a deep breath and nodded again.

"What, um, what does that mean? I know what Asperger's entails, but, for me, what does that mean?"

Tom pursed his lips and Quinn kept twirling Henry's tentacle around her fingers.

"Well, not a lot, Quinn. You know it's an autism spectrum disorder, and we don't medicate for it, so we'll narrow our focus onto its main components. The main one, of course, being social anxiety."

"And everything else?" Quinn asked, making eye contact again and forcing herself to hold it. She focused on the image in her mind of penguins jumping six feet in the air. She'd like to go somewhere and see that happen for herself. They probably didn't do it in the zoo, though. Maybe in the wild.

Rachel would probably like to come with her. Rachel would love Antarctica.

"The other…quirks, that come with Asperger's, we're not going to treat. Or change, or alter. Like, you know, in-depth interest in specific subjects, or higher intelligence, or oddities in speech, humor…Even your little tics, Quinn, we're going to sort of ignore, for now, because they stem from anxiety and excitement, and that's exactly what we've been working on."

Quinn processed all that for a moment. She stopped playing with the octopus and her breathing gradually returned to normal.

"So, we don't have to change anything. I'm doing…well?"

Tom smiled warmly at her. "Wonderfully. Asperger's is just putting a name to everything we've been working on for the past few weeks."

Quinn relaxed back in her chair. She could deal with this. This was okay.

Dr. Madison leaned forward over his desk, chuckling as he shoved aside multiple smiley face stress balls and colorful paper clips and-how did he get any work done? Did he just sit at his desk and play all day between his sessions?

"You're a very well-adjusted person, Quinn, for your situation. I don't think your past has contributed much, traumatically, to your issues today. You're just…very happy. And youthful. And you are doing very well."

Quinn flushed and smiled down at her lap. She placed Henry back on Dr. Madison's desk and patted him on his fluffy octopus head.

She imagined Henry eating his own arms, but that sort of horrified her, so…She called Rachel instead on her way home. Her show would've ended about an hour ago. God, what kind of psychologist held evening sessions?

Tom Madison, that's who. Quinn thought about getting him a present. Maybe a cool fish to add to his tank. Or a turtle.

"Hey, honey! How was your session?" Rachel exclaimed. Quinn could hear things banging around on Rachel's end, and one of the dogs whining. She smiled to herself at the crosswalk.

"How was your show?" Quinn asked equally enthusiastically.

"I asked fir-" Rachel cut herself off and the banging got louder. And the whining and scratching and…water? What was happening right now? Quinn narrowed her eyes and listened closely.

"Barnaby, you _imbecile_!" Quinn heard in the distance. She snorted and covered her nose, even though nobody was around. She had to disagree. Barnaby was not an imbecile. He was a genius who knew how to use his powers to annoy Rachel to the greatest extent possible, and still have her love him.

It was a fine art. He was a master.

"Get the hell out of the dishwasher!" Came through the line, slightly louder.

Okay, maybe Barnaby was being an imbecile this time. He probably wanted a bath. Quinn would give him one tomorrow. She wondered if Rachel had any shampoo left.

There was a lot of clicking and rustling and swearing before Rachel came back on the line. She took a few deep breaths as Quinn chuckled to herself.

"I asked first." Rachel said nonchalantly, ignoring the previous two minutes. Quinn would let her block it out for now.

"I have Asperger's." She blurted, then shook her head around as she walked along the sidewalk. God, things just-they just came out of her mouth.

Rachel was silent for a minute. Eerily silent. What had she done with Barnaby?

"For sure?" She asked concernedly.

Quinn smiled at her tone. "Yeah. Tom, uh, felt comfortable diagnosing it. But, um, I'll talk-can we talk about it when I get home? I want to hear about your show."

Rachel was quiet for a second, but then responded happily.

"Yeah, of course, bear. So, um, Puck was stalking me all night, because he said my scary girlfriend threatened him into making sure I was okay, and that I didn't get, well…stalked. And to make sure I sounded as amazing as always, which I did, because I'm me."

Again, Quinn snorted. She could hear Rachel's smile through the phone.

"James came in a little early on his lines once, but then he tripped down the backstage steps so he got what was coming to him….Umm, let's see…One of my fans told me that the blonde girl I hang out with a lot is totally gorgeous and asked me if she was a movie star…"

Quinn laughed.

Rachel would talk all the way home, because her show was her second favorite subject. And Quinn would listen, because Rachel made her smile. And Quinn liked how Rachel laughed when she made Quinn snort, and they'd get sucked into this chain reaction of laughter.

Which is a pretty good reaction to be stuck in.

Rachel just made it better, even when it was amazing to begin with.


	18. Chapter 18

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 18: Turn off the Lights and Turn off the Shyness**

Rachel was not prepared to run five kilometers through Central Park. Or to be dragged five kilometers through Central Park by her girlfriend and her dogs. She was surrounded by people who looked like they were about to start a fucking triathlon.

It's a dog run, people. Calm yourselves down.

Rachel held Quinn's hand to prevent her from skipping as they came to the clearing where the run was supposed to start. Quinn's eyes widened and she froze.

Dogs. Everywhere. Dogs, dogs, and more dogs. Rachel quirked her eyebrows up and watched Quinn soak it all in. Quinn was broken from her reverie when Cornelius tried to bolt after a puppy that was trying to play with him.

Rachel checked to make sure her girlfriend's arm wasn't dislocated.

Then Rachel nudged Quinn in the ribs and nodded towards the check-in table. "How about you sign us in, Quinn?"

Quinn looked at the table, which was surrounded by a good number of people, but not mobbed, and then down at Rachel, twisting Cornelius's leash around her fingers. Rachel waited patiently.

As patiently as one can wait when her dog's dragging them in five different directions.

Quinn nodded confidently, and Rachel swatted her on the butt as she walked away, grinning when Quinn whirled around and flushed. Rachel gave her a thumbs up. For what, she didn't know. Her ass? Yeah, that would work. It was glorious.

She sat on the grass, and then quickly got back up when Barnaby tried to sit in her lap, and she surveyed all the people and their animals around her. Ah, she should've gotten little clothes for Barnes and Cornelius to wear! Little running booties and neon vests.

Now Rachel was disappointed in herself. She'd lost an opportunity to dress up her dogs. And they really didn't come around that often. Halloween was pretty much it.

She watched Quinn standing quietly in the line, and then leaning over the counter to check them in, and smiling at the lady who handed them their pin-on numbers. Quinn's hands fidgeted with the leash, but she waved happily at the woman when she left the table. And then she waved at Rachel, who was smiling like a fool.

She didn't know _why_. She was about to run three miles. That did not deserve a smile.

"Ready!" Quinn called out excitedly when she was still about twenty yards away. Rachel was going to scream something back at her, though she hadn't determined what yet, when some guy sauntered into her path.

Rachel stopped abruptly and looked up at him. Dark hair. Dark eyes. She raised an eyebrow instead of shoving him out of her way. It was the polite thing to do.

"I'm Jeremy." He stated confidently, sticking out his hand with a smile.

Rachel narrowed her eyes, but shook his hand and introduced herself. Where was this guy's dog? Was he actually trolling the dog run to pick up girls? Rachel bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, and then drew blood when she caught sight of Quinn's expression. She looked like a meerkat, observing from a few feet behind Jeremy.

Eyes wide and alert. Ready to pounce for her woman. Or _on_ her woman.

Rachel shook her head slightly. She wanted to see how far this guy could get before he completely embarrassed himself.

Quinn watched her warily and nodded, clasping her hands in front of her, and rocking back on her heels.

Rachel focused back on Jeremy expectantly. She hadn't heard anything he'd said in the past thirty seconds, so she just nodded and hoped he hadn't asked any questions.

"You look like this run shouldn't be too hard for you." He remarked.

Whoa, dude. First of all, this run was going to be the hardest damn thing in Rachel's life. Second of all, whoa dude. Rachel flushed and glanced at Quinn.

Uh-oh. Laser death stare. Right at the back of Jeremy's head.

Rachel would've just slapped him right there, but she wanted to see what he'd come up with next. It was entertaining. Maybe she'd get into a super long conversation and not have to do this run.

Of course he would continue. "Really!" He persisted, grinning because Rachel had yet to tell him he was not winning this game. "You look very fit. Do you work out?"

Oh God, no way. Rachel needed to YouTube this situation. This mess. Train wreck. Bring joy to millions of guys who were having self-confidence issues.

Quinn's fingers were fidgeting against her thighs, and she rocked back on her heels, but stayed put.

Jeremy raised an eyebrow at Rachel. "Do you talk?" He asked.

Apparently not in the last three minutes. Rachel had been too focused on the shit spewing from his mouth. And getting Rachel to not talk…well, yep, Jeremy's out.

Quinn must have agreed, because she brushed past Jeremy abruptly, and leaned down right up against Rachel, kissing her girlfriend fully on the mouth, and then nipping her bottom lip as she pulled away. Rachel licked her lips dazedly.

Who was this guy standing across from her? What was happening?

"Yeah, she does." Quinn stated, pulling Rachel fully into her side and staring unflinchingly up at Jeremy. Rachel just smiled up at the clouds dreamily.

That one looked like Quinn. And that one looked like Quinn. Oh, and that one too!

Jeremy didn't say anything. He just stalked off to talk to a bleach blonde girl with a Chihuahua, while Rachel made Quinn kiss her again, and carefully pinned on their numbers.

Thirty-three and thirty-four.

Rachel was ready for this.

Twenty minutes later, Rachel came to the conclusion that she most definitely was _not_ ready for this. She had only been deluding herself. She was fit, but she was not a runner, and she wasn't strong enough to restrain Barnaby, who was perfectly happy to sprint along the path at full speed.

Why the hell was she doing this?

"Run faster, little bear!" Quinn called over her shoulder, jogging easily and barely restraining the two dogs in front of her. She _seemed_ completely in control, though she was probably about to be pitched forward, breaking an ankle or dislocating an arm or something.

Rachel rolled her eyes and picked up the pace. Her hair was falling in her face, and she had dirt on her knees from where Barnaby had dragged her down onto the ground earlier, but she caught up to Quinn and glared at her. Or she tried to glare at her. She was too disoriented and watery-eyed to be sure it was a glare.

"This was…a…horrible…idea." Rachel choked out between pants. Her lungs were burning. Her feet were hurting. It was not a good situation.

Quinn looked at her, and then back at the path when Cornelius tried to swerve them into a canal.

"It's for a good cause." Quinn said easily. God, iron lungs. Iron stomach. Was Rachel's girlfriend a robot? Definitely not. She had to be something soft. Maybe one of those stuffed mechanical puppies, which run until they break, and then make weird, high-pitched noises until they get thrown against the wall in frustration.

God. She must be oxygen deprived or something.

Rachel wished she was a robot so that she could finish this race without passing out.

Just. Keep. Moving.

Quinn continued brightly. "And…there are lots of dogs."

Oh, really. Rachel hadn't noticed. Is that what those were? Oh my God, her legs were about to fall off.

"Quiiinnn." Rachel whined, slowing dramatically into a grandma jog. Quinn slowed as well, and the dogs strangled themselves as they tried to keep sprinting ahead. She looked at Rachel, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Are you okay?"

Rachel focused on catching her breath, and didn't reply. If she could speak, she would. She was Rachel.

"Are you okay, Rachel? Do you-do you want me to carry you?" Quinn asked worriedly, slowing to a walk.

Rachel still couldn't say anything. God, what was wrong with her fucking body? Eight Broadway shows a week, and it was a twenty minute dog run that really did her in. She figured she was just built for the stage. Really, just destined for it. It was the _only_ thing her body was made for.

Rachel was trying to get her eyes to uncross when Quinn leaned over in front of her and coaxed her to climb onto her back. Well, alrighty then. Rachel didn't protest, because she couldn't do words right now, so she took the leashes from Quinn and climbed up piggyback, resting her head on messy blonde hair.

So much better. Rachel could sleep like this. With Quinn gripping her thighs tightly, and Rachel's legs wrapped around her woman.

Oh my God.

Quinn strode through the finish line ten minutes later, bouncing Rachel around on her back excitedly. Nearly knocking Rachel's teeth out and slamming their heads together.

"We finished it!" Quinn exclaimed, accidentally dumping Rachel into a heap on the ground, because Rachel had foolishly been under the impression that her legs would work now.

"You finished it." Rachel grumbled.

Quinn smiled at her and brushed off Rachel's butt. "You're here, Rachel. At the-at the finish line. So…you finished!"

Rachel kept grumpily brushing the dirt off her legs and Quinn's expression fell a little. She wasn't ignoring Quinn. She was wondering how the hell dirt had become ingrained in her flesh from a couple falls and if she'd need to remove her epidermis to getting the fucking stuff out.

"I'm sorry, Rachel. We can-I'll take you on another date this week and it'll be better. We can-"

Okay, so this was a date. Rachel had not been informed. But she could roll with that.

"No, Quinn, this is fun. It's for a good cause, and I'm with you, so I'm enjoying myself." Rachel assured genuinely. She really was. Despite the dirt and sweat and _running. _God, the running. Rachel liked people-watching. And dog-watching. Especially when the dogs were more horribly bad-mannered than her own.

Which was rare. But it gave her some confidence.

Quinn watched her for a moment, making sure those brown eyes were sincere. Then she grinned and bounced on her tip toes.

"Can we look at the dogs now?"

Rachel had to smile. Her girlfriend was such a simple soul. Quinn dragged her towards the rescue dogs before she even answered. They were only allowed three dogs in their apartment, so…Quinn would have to make this count.

Quinn rocked backward and forward on her heels impatiently waiting for the people in front of the first cage to move. Rachel squeezed her hand to get her to stand still, and they stepped forward a minute later.

"Awww…" Quinn murmured, crouching down and sticking her fingers through the bars so a little tan mutt could lick them. Rachel put her hands on Quinn's shoulders and prevented Cornelius from rushing the cage and scaring the dog.

He settled for lying on his back and tangling himself up in his leash instead.

Some lady with no boundaries whatsoever crouched next to Quinn, pressing their arms together, and Quinn shuffled to the left abruptly, and on to the next cage. She gazed longingly back at the mutt, and then gave exactly the same expression to the fluffy ankle biters in front of her.

Yeah, take _all_ the dogs. Take them all home. They would be lucky to have Quinn.

Quinn moved on to the next crate, which held a massive, fluffy, polar bear-like Samoyed. Rachel couldn't tell which end was up because of all the fur. God, think of the shedding. It'd be like living in a winter wonderland. Inside their apartment.

Except it would be dog hair. And it would be gross. Rachel would need to buy a vacuum. God knows why she didn't already own a fucking vacuum.

Quinn gazed at the snowman dog with soft eyes, and he scooted forward on his stomach to the front of the cage.

Rachel read the tag on the crate. His name was Pongo. Rachel smiled. Just like _101 Dalmatians_. Quinn would love it.

And God, he was sixteen years old. Rachel looked at him more closely, and, yeah, this dog…He wouldn't last much longer. But his eyes were bright as Quinn rubbed his ear through the cage. The pushy woman scooted up next to Quinn again, yelling something to her kids behind her, but Quinn didn't move. She didn't flinch.

And Rachel knew this dog was the one. Of course Quinn would want the polar bear.

She wasn't surprised when Quinn looked up at her with shiny hazel eyes and asked quietly, "Can this one come home with us?"

God, of course. Who could possibly say no?

Rachel kept Pongo company while Quinn paid the adoption fee, and watched as Cornelius laid down against the cage, so his back was pressed up against the fluffy white one. Her little family just kept growing.

"Should I carry him?" Quinn asked seriously when she returned.

Yeah, Quinn, attempt to carry this ninety pound, three feet tall, bear-like ball of fluff. Nine blocks. That'll go well. Rachel shook her head fondly.

"No. He can walk. Just…go slow."

Hopefully the new dog could make it home without, you know…_dying_. Once there, he could lounge around like a king.

The walk home was tedious and slow, because Pongo strode stiffly and paused frequently, but he wagged his tail happily. It was the first time in Rachel's life that Barnaby didn't surge forward like a psycho on his leash, but stayed right next to his other new best friend.

Barnesy would soon have a fleet of new best friends.

Quinn was pleased. And Rachel was pleased that she'd "completed" a 5k without being taken to the hospital. And that the dirt she'd thought had been absorbed into her organs had now vanished. She was also pleased that they were now filled up on dogs.

Quinn would have to use more of that imagination if she wanted to continue turning their apartment into a zoo.

~oooooooooo~

Pongo didn't sleep on Quinn and Rachel's bed because he couldn't jump up there, so they got him a dog bed and put it on Quinn's side of the room and he was content. Rachel would wake up in the night to go to the bathroom and come across this giant, glowing ball of whiteness, giving herself a heart attack, before realizing, oh yeah, they have a polar bear dog now.

Quinn and her glow-in-the-dark animals.

Right now, though, Quinn was ushering Pongo and Jelly out of the room, and shutting the bedroom door, before returning to her spot on the bed halfway on top of a half-naked Rachel. A topless Rachel, who didn't really know when she'd lost her shirt. Had she been wearing one earlier? Probably.

Rachel's heart started beating faster. If that was fucking possible. Quinn had never shut the animals out before. Oh God. Rein it in. Self control.

Quinn settled softly on the bed next to Rachel, propped up on an elbow, a hand tracing over Rachel's stomach. Rachel watched her carefully, never faltering under the bright hazel gaze.

It was relentless. An x-ray. She was sure Quinn could see her soul.

Quinn leaned down and pressed her lips to Rachel's, and then rested her cheek against Rachel's and whispered to her. Or _breathed_ into her ear.

"I love you, Rachel."

Rachel was actually shaking. She knew what was happening, but at the same time, she really didn't. It was all new. She had the craziest thoughts going through her head right now. She pictured their four animals sitting outside the bedroom door, ears pressed up against it and listening in like perverts.

Then she shook that image away and ran a hand along Quinn's side. "I love you too, bear."

Quinn smiled and licked her lips before kissing Rachel again, and moving her hand up higher to Rachel's abdomen and between her breasts.

This was definitely different. Quinn wasn't gleefully playing with them, like…funbags. Bags of fun to be fondled to elicit giggles and whines. She was slow, and careful, and-oh shit. Oh shit. Oh God.

"Rachel, I'm ready." Quinn said quietly into her ear. Rachel's heart seized up, because holy mother of God that _voice_. She had never heard it before.

She wanted to hear it again.

And then she realized what Quinn had actually said, and just barely prevented herself from passing out. Or having cardiac arrest. No. No way, Rachel Berry. She was not going to ruin this moment by going unconscious.

Before she had a legitimate reason to be unconscious.

She looked up into bright hazel eyes, which were really more of a swirling, intoxicating green right now. She couldn't look away.

"Are you sure, Quinn?" Rachel breathed, trying to ignore the hand tracing patterns on her stomach. _God_, it was fucking impossible.

Quinn nodded slowly and surely, and kissed Rachel's neck, just below her jaw. "I'm ready for you, Rachel, if you'll…help me."

Well, Rachel was about to catch fire. That was for sure. And that was about as far as her thought process went. Because really, what else was there? Those had to be the most glorious words ever.

Aside from "Ms. Berry, you got the part of Fanny Brice."

And "I love you too," spoken outside a polar bear enclosure by the same striking blonde with whom she was about to make love.

Have sex.

Oh my God. Rachel's body was off the charts. Blood pressure, heart rate, temperature. They all had to be at critical levels. And she never been less sure of a definition of a word than she was of "help" right now.

Rachel rolled them over so that she was halfway on top of Quinn. They'd figure it out. Her last "real world" thought was about the unsupervised dogs probably destroying all their possessions in the living room.

But Rachel blocked that out. Not even consciously. It just vanished from her mind. She went slowly. God, just _so_ slowly. She ignored the growing pile of clothes next to the bed, the fuzzy reindeer pajamas and dinosaur top, and the scratching against the door, focusing only on the trusting hazel eyes below her.

After removing all of Quinn's clothes, and her own, she ran her hands over all the skin she could reach. There was _so much_. And it was _so soft_. And it all smelled like fucking gummy bears. Was she made of them? Did Quinn have a gummy bear soul?

God, Rachel was shaking. She started moving even slower than before.

Rachel blocked out the groaning of the pipes, in favor of other noises that were just so much better, whispering "I love you" the whole time. All that energy and love that had built up inside her was _finally_ being released under the covers, and Quinn felt exactly the same way, if her little breathy moans were anything to go by.

Rachel had caught fire, been extinguished, and started smoldering again by the time it was over, and she held Quinn tightly to her, burying her face in Quinn's neck. Quinn had tears in her eyes, but she was smiling, and she kissed Rachel on the head and held it there for a while.

She didn't say anything, and Rachel stopped herself from starting up some kind of conversation, which would normally be a feat, but now…she just wanted to lie quietly.

She felt…like she'd never felt before. Rachel Berry didn't have words in her vocabulary to describe it, and she was glad for that.

Quinn fell asleep soon after, breathing softly into Rachel's hair. Rachel shifted so that her head was on Quinn's chest, and re-entwined their legs, _still_ ignoring the scratching on the door.

Quinn's feet were actually warm for once, and if Rachel walked out into a demolished living room tomorrow, well, it was totally worth it.

~oooooooooo~

When Rachel woke up, it was because Quinn had rolled over in her sleep and flung her arm into Rachel's face. Rachel muffled her instinctual cry of "oh my God, somebody's trying to smother me!" and grabbed the arm softly, moving it down to Quinn's side and squeezing it between their bodies.

In the little space there was.

Quinn lay on her stomach, facing Rachel, and Rachel drew little hearts on her bare shoulder and watched her sleep. Quinn was under the sheet because the apartment was freezing at night, but Rachel could see her outline and she couldn't stop staring.

She _could not_ stop staring.

She should probably get up and make pancakes or cookies or something, but…no. Not right now. She had better things to do. Like lie here and stare at her girlfriend.

When Rachel dragged her eyes back up Quinn's body five minutes later, she found hazel eyes wide open and staring at her. Quinn propped herself up on her elbows when Rachel blanched.

Crap. Was that weird? Eyeballing your girlfriend as she sleeps? That was a little weird.

Quinn was the one flushing though, as she met Rachel's eyes, and Rachel smiled at her.

"Why are your cheeks so red?" she asked innocently, placing a cool palm against Quinn's face.

Quinn blushed even more, and Rachel grinned as her ears turned crimson. "They're not." Quinn said quietly, pressing her face back into the pillow, but grabbing Rachel's hand to keep it on her cheek.

"You look like a strawberry." Rachel whispered with a chuckle.

Quinn stared at her with one eye, the other smothered by the pillow. She tugged Rachel closer until their faces were inches apart.

"Good morning, lovely girl." Quinn said softly.

Rachel reached up and ruffled her hair. Quinn buried her whole face in the pillow and Rachel waited for her to run out of air so that she could get a good morning kiss before breakfast. Rachel scratched lightly at the back of Quinn's neck for extra encouragement.

"Baby, flip over." Rachel whined as minutes passed and Quinn still hadn't moved. How was she breathing? Wait, she _was_ breathing, right?

Rachel's heart stopped beating for a moment in some sort of irrational state of panic before Quinn rolled over on her side to face her, pillow lines across her cheeks. God. That was not fair.

The sheet slipped, and that was not fair.

Still, Rachel wanted her good morning kiss, so she leaned over and took it from a willing participant. Quinn was just all shy smiles, and she was redder than before, probably due to near asphyxiation.

Rachel really couldn't help it that their chests pressed together and she happened to wrap her body around Quinn's in a good morning hug as well. She just couldn't help it. It had to happen. It wanted to happen. She let it happen.

"Do you want cookies or pancakes today?" Rachel asked as she sat up, staring fondly down at Quinn's messy hair and bare torso. Quinn stared up at probably the same things.

Except Rachel's hair was more of a bird's nest, and Quinn's was more "windswept, sex-crazed goddess."

Quinn nodded brightly.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Cookies or pancakes."

Quinn nodded again. "Yes, please."

Rachel snorted and leaned down, a hand on either side of Quinn's head so their noses were inches apart. "Pick one, bear. Cookies _or_ pancakes."

Quinn smiled like she was daring Rachel to do something, eyes sparkling in the light. "Yes, please." She said again.

Well, here we go. She's asking for it.

Rachel collapsed like dead weight on top of Quinn, and then tickled her ribs, holding her girlfriend down when she kicked and squirmed to get away. She soaked up the wonderfully out of control giggling and tried to avoid being knocked out by Quinn's flailing head.

"Rach-Rachel! Ra-R-Ahh! Sto-Rach-Ra!"

Hmm. Rachel couldn't quite decipher what Quinn was trying to say through her laughter. Was there a mercy in there? She thought not.

And then holy shit, this whole situation backfired. In a good way. The best way. Rachel found herself rolling around with her naked girlfriend under these winter covers that were making everything so _warm_. She froze and looked at Quinn, who was gazing up at her with tears of laughter in her eyes, chest heaving, eyes dark and sparkly and-Jesus.

So, cookies or pancakes?

Pssht. Neither at the moment. Rachel had better things to do.


	19. Chapter 19

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 19: You Knew Me Better than I Knew Myself**

It was May Day when Rachel's fathers were due to fly in to JFK. What May Day was, aside from the first day of May, Rachel didn't have any idea, but she liked to say it over and over again because it just rolled wonderfully off the tongue. And Quinn said it made her think of spring and rabbits. And chocolate eggs.

Rachel was currently swerving through traffic, trying to get to the airport arrival gates an hour late because she and Quinn had gotten _distracted_ that morning. Quinn sat in the passenger seat, grasping the door handle and bracing against the dashboard, swatting Rachel's thigh every time she yelled "May Day!" out the window at some asshole driver.

They really needed to move. Fuck the law. Rachel Berry was never late.

Cornelius had his head out the backseat window, just egging her on to go faster. Yeah. Cornelius was in the fucking car. Quinn had been cuddling him and Pongo and Barnaby all morning because they kept her calm. Cornelius was just lucky to be the smallest and most portable, so he got to ride along.

He'd tried jumping out the window, but Quinn had rolled it up after overcoming her horror so that only his head would fit out.

"Rachel!" Quinn shrieked, as Rachel came to a heart-stopping halt centimeters away from rear-ending a taxi cab.

This was thrilling!

Quinn stared at the side of Rachel's head with wide eyes. Rachel figured she was probably having second thoughts about being her girlfriend right now. How had Quinn never seen her drive?

Rachel stared straight ahead, bouncing her knees restlessly. She got this. She wondered if her car would sound cool if she revved it, and then stopped that train of thought because Quinn would probably slap her or something.

God, yeah right.

Rachel turned to look at Quinn with an innocent smile.

"Do you want to drive on the way back, baby?"

Quinn's horror and fear for her life and exasperation faded into that sweet, shy expression Rachel loved.

"I can't drive." She mumbled, grip finally loosening on the door handle. Good. Now Rachel could be sure she wouldn't accidentally fling herself out as they barreled down the highway. At five miles an hour.

"You mean you don't have a license, or-"

"No, I don't know _how_. Nobody taught me."

Well. Rachel had a new goal. Pass on her wonderful driving skills to her girlfriend. It would be so much fun! She could-

"Hey, _ass_! May Day! Asshole!" Rachel yelled out her window when yet another cab cut her off. They were going fucking five miles an hour right now. It wouldn't get anybody anywhere faster. The driver flipped her the bird.

"Don't call them names." Quinn said quietly, frowning at the gesture, and untying the air freshener from Rachel's rearview mirror so that she could smell it. She scrunched up her nose at the strong, tropical scent and hurriedly put it back.

God. This girl. Rachel almost accelerated into the back of the cab she was so smitten. Rachel reached over and took Quinn's hand and kissed it with an apologetic smile.

"You're right, bear. Sorry."

Sure, the guy was an ass. But telling him that would only turn him into an assier ass when all Rachel wanted was to get to the damn airport.

Quinn smiled at her.

Rachel got distracted when she went on a passing spree, and missed the turn for the parking garage she needed. After doing three more loops of the goddamned huge airport and wasting about twenty minutes, she pulled in and found a space.

It would cost a fortune, but Rachel refused to do curbside pick-up. It seemed soulless. And less fun.

They made it. They were stationary. Quinn let out a huge breath and Rachel narrowed her eyes at her. Well, don't seem _too_ relieved, woman. Cornelius stayed in the car since it was cool outside and the window was half open, and they'd probably be arrested if they brought him into the airport.

Or he'd end up on a flight to Timbuktu.

Because Rachel would put him on a flight to Timbuktu.

The airport was as crowded as ever, and Rachel pulled her Yankees cap down so the brim covered her face. She didn't want people to recognize her, but she also didn't want to come off as a sketchy airport creeper. It was a fine line.

Rachel searched hurriedly for an arrivals screen, and when she found it, it said her dads' flight had been delayed two hours and was still in the air.

Well, shit. Rachel Berry was on time. She smiled smugly and glanced at Quinn next to her.

Like, right next to her. There was no space between them. Quinn's eyes were darting around, and she was anxiously pulling the rubber band around her wrist. She closed her eyes and shook her head as Rachel watched.

Rachel immediately took Quinn's clammy, shaky hand and pulled her over to a quieter area near the wall. She grabbed Quinn's other hand and held them both still, waiting for Quinn to look in her eyes.

"Do we need to wait outside, Quinn? Or in the car?" Rachel asked quietly.

Quinn shook her head vigorously and blinked exaggeratedly. "No. I'm-we can-I'm okay."

Rachel just watched her. "Are you sure?"

"Can we explore?" Quinn blurted, and then shook her head around. Rachel reached up and patted the blonde hair back down.

"Like, explore the airport?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. She'd been to this airport too many times to count. She knew every inch of it. She fucking lived here sometimes. There was a security guy who drove a golf cart who'd given her an insane ride once when she'd been late for a flight.

She was pretty sure it was against the law, but he must've been starstruck by her talent, and she'd made the flight, because Rachel Berry was never late. Breaking the law always seemed to work out for her.

Quinn nodded slightly, stepping closer to Rachel as a surge of people brushed by. Quinn might shed new light on this airport. Turn it into a wonderland, instead of a place where Rachel spent excessive amounts of time searching for the right terminal or a bathroom or a place that sells coffee amidst mobs of strangers, fighting a deadline and trying to find her lost bags.

Rachel smiled and nodded, looping one of her arms with Quinn's, and allowing her girlfriend to cautiously lead the way. Quinn's hand was still quivering and a little clammy, but she looked around and seemed to decide where to go first.

And then led Rachel straight to a damn vending machine.

Rachel couldn't blame her. They hadn't eaten breakfast that morning because they were so crushed for time. And because Quinn had fed the last of their waffles to the dogs.

"You need to stop eating this junk, Quinn." Rachel remarked, even as she inserted a couple dollars in the machine, holding a fidgety Quinn by the hand.

"I'll have that one, please." Quinn requested, kissing Rachel on the cheek in thanks and pointing at D4.

A huge ass Mrs. Field's chocolate chip cookie. Rachel rolled her eyes.

"You can have half." Quinn offered, and then frowned, taking the wrapping off the cookie and stuffing about a quarter of it in her mouth. "Well, no, it's not vegan, but you can have…We can get you…What do you want?"

She looked at Rachel expectantly, wiping the crumbs from her mouth and leaving streaks of chocolate behind.

"I'll wait 'till we get home." Rachel said, pointing at her own cheek with a smile. Quinn got the chocolate off, but it made no difference when she stuffed over half the cookie in her mouth.

Rachel bit the inside of her cheek. God, what a slob.

Quinn bought Rachel some Starburst anyway, and then ate about half of them herself as they strolled around the airport. Or stealthily slithered along the walls of the airport avoiding the crowds. Quinn plopped down in a comfy chair away from the masses and pulled Rachel onto her lap, wrapping her arms around her stomach. Rachel put her hands over Quinn's and leaned back.

She could smell the Starburst on her girlfriend's breath.

Quinn's hands were shaky again, and Rachel pulled them closer to her stomach.

"You're okay, Quinn. They'll love you."

She felt Quinn nod against her shoulder.

"Do you wanna play the horse game?" Quinn asked quietly a few moments later.

Uh-oh. Rachel had never heard of this. And some of Quinn's games were…well, they were in an airport. And she didn't want to be arrested.

"What's the horse game?" she asked warily.

Quinn straightened underneath her and held Rachel's hands out in front of them. And then she started bouncing her legs up and down, making Rachel bounce around. Like a horse. Or an earthquake. Or-oh goodness.

Oh God. Quinn was smiling delightedly, completely oblivious, but Rachel was having some serious issues. With this position. And the movement. She reached down hurriedly and stilled Quinn's legs, and twisted around to face her.

"Maybe at home, honey."

When her dads were gone.

Because it was actually a fun game. So much fun.

"Did you know rabbits can jump higher than thirty-six inches?" Quinn asked as Rachel dragged her to stand by baggage claim because the flight should have landed by now. Quinn shifted nervously from foot to foot.

Rachel smiled up at her.

"They have really str-strong legs." Quinn stuttered.

Well. Time to get a rabbit and test this out. Except Rachel was bound to end up with some weirdo rabbit that could only jump an inch or two. She was wondering where to buy "super jump" rabbits when she heard her dads.

Yeah, she _heard_ them. Fumbling around by the baggage carousel looking like super alert meerkats and speaking unbelievably loudly.

"Where are they, Hiram?"

"I don't-Are we going the right way?"

"Oh! Oh! Over there! She's gorgeous!"

Oh my God. Rachel was face-palming before she even _saw_ her dads.

They had apparently already caught sight of Rachel and Quinn, because they were bulldozing their way through the crowd as politely as possible and waving like excited children. Rachel pulled away from Quinn to greet her fathers with a hug, and they both lifted her off the ground amidst unintelligible exclamations of glee.

When they put Rachel down, they turned to Quinn excitedly. Her daddy Leroy had an almost manic smile on his face. Hiram seemed to be restraining himself a little better. Rachel rushed to stand next to Quinn because she looked a little terrified.

Like she was being charged at by a rhinoceros.

"Dad, Daddy, this is Quinn. My girlfriend." Rachel leaned up and kissed Quinn on the cheek, smiling at the flush that appeared when her fathers awwed.

"Quinn, my dads. Leroy and Hiram."

Leroy surged forward immediately, and Quinn took an abrupt half-step back. Rachel put a calming hand on the small of her back.

"It's wonderful to finally meet you, Quinn. We've heard so much!" Leroy stated brightly, extending his hand. It looked like it was taking everything he had to not give Quinn a hug.

Quinn met his eyes carefully and gave him a small smile, shaking his hand. "You too, um, Mr. Berry." She said quietly, and then turned to Hiram. He was taller, and probably more intimidating, like an actual rhinoceros, but he smiled warmly down at her as she met his eyes.

"And, you…Mr. Berry." Quinn said.

"Oh no, Leroy and Hiram, please!" Leroy exclaimed entirely too loudly. Okay, calm down. We got the first names. All of New York did.

Quinn nodded. "Um, Hiram and Leroy, you raised such a beautiful daughter." She said seriously, eyes flitting between the men.

Rachel almost laughed, but Quinn had made the sound stick in her throat again. Her dads would eat this up.

"Would you like some-some Starburst?" Quinn asked with a small smile, pulling the packet out of her pocket and offering them hesitantly to Rachel's dads.

There were two red ones left. Quinn's favorite flavor.

God, did they have tears in their eyes? Rachel sure fucking did. They needed to pull themselves together. It was fruity, gummy candy, not _gold_. Rachel hugged Quinn around the waist proudly. Yeah, her girlfriend was sharing her candy. Her dads must be important people.

"Would the owner of a blue Audi sedan with license number UFR7G9 please report to the parking authority desk immediately. That's license number UFR7G9 to the parking authority desk immediately."

Rachel stopped smiling and looked up at the intercom.

Fucking Cornelius.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel finished heating up the vegan dip for her chips, which she'd accidentally done for six minutes instead of sixty seconds in her stupid damn microwave that she was not familiar with, and she took the whole platter of food out to the group in her living room. She had carrots, cucumber, ranch dip, salsa, Ruffles, and, of course, peanut butter cookies.

Always peanut butter cookies.

Quinn had even added chocolate chips to them for Rachel's dads.

Rachel set everything on the coffee table, and then plopped on the loveseat with her feet on Quinn's lap. Her fathers shared the couch with Puck, who was violently playing the Rock Band drums, trying to keep up with Santana and Brittany.

It wasn't that hard. Santana was "singing" through moans and screamo yells, trying to see if the game would recognize the pitches without the words. Apparently it was working.

Unfortunately.

And Brittany seemed to be under the impression that she was playing Dance Dance Revolution with Barnaby, her guitar long forgotten.

Cornelius had been locked in the bathroom after his escapades that morning. Rachel had been _so sure_ he wouldn't be able to fit through the half-open car window…but, well, somebody had seen him leap out of it with their own eyes. And it's not like he was actually being punished. Quinn kept sneaking in every twenty minutes with treats and squeaky toys that everybody in the building could probably hear.

Rachel absently dunked a chip in her dip and bit into it, registered that it was lava hot, made a few unintelligible noises of alarm, and spat the whole mouthful back out into her hand.

"Aaarlllghghblagghh." There was spit running down the side of her mouth.

God, even Quinn grimaced. Quinn, who had a massive splotch of spray cheese in the middle of her shirt, from when she'd gotten a little too enthusiastic with the bottle and her Animal Crackers. Rachel composed herself and Quinn patted her feet sympathetically. And laughed.

"Quinn! How's Pongo settling in?" Hiram asked loudly, blocking his daughter out of his vision.

Quinn immediately slid off the couch and onto the floor by the coffee table, right next to where her polar bear was lying. His tail thumped at the mention of his name.

"He's a big softy." She said with a smile, leaning over and burying her face in his fur. Deep into his fur. She essentially vanished.

Rachel tried not to stare at her ass because her fathers were _right there_. She failed, and accepted their pointed amusement with nonchalance.

And Jesus Christ, Santana needed to shut up.

Quinn re-emerged from Pongo's fur and found the people who weren't taking Rock Band far too seriously staring at her.

"He likes-he likes Froot Loops." She said with a flush, climbing back onto the love seat and rubbing Pongo's back with her foot. She grabbed Rachel's feet and put them back in her lap.

"How old is he?" Leroy asked curiously. "He looks…Well, he's certainly not a puppy."

"Sixteen." Quinn said, her face falling a little bit.

Rachel nudged her in the ribs with her foot until Quinn looked at her. "And he's happy. And he has a wonderful life." Rachel said encouragingly.

A wonderful life where he gets fucking Froot Loops for breakfast, apparently.

"Fabray! Get the guitar!" Santana ordered suddenly, taking a break from her wordless singing. Or wailing. Like a cat. She was breathing quite heavily. Maybe she'd lose her voice soon. Rachel was hopeful.

Quinn looked hesitant.

"Come on Q, we're doing some Flaming Lips." Santana urged.

"Um." Quinn glanced at Rachel hesitantly. "I don't know what that means."

Rachel smiled at her and rubbed a foot along Quinn's thigh.

"It's a band, Q. But don't worry, Mr. H got this. You can have the next one." Puck handed the guitar to an eager Hiram, who seemed far too familiar with it for his age. Quinn watched his actions with it carefully. She'd be a pro by the end of the day.

"Rachel!" Brittany exclaimed suddenly, having given up on dancing, and now playing with Jelly and one of her own shoelaces instead.

Santana had started up her singing again. Rachel was ready to throw Quinn's PS3 off the balcony. No, actually, she was ready to throw Santana off the balcony.

Rachel raised her eyebrows at Brittany and allowed Barnaby to jump up on her lap.

"Are you going to Quinn's open house?" Brittany asked, chasing Jelly around. Jelly was probably terrified right now. Rachel silently urged her kitten to run into the bathroom and hide. _Not_ the one with Cornelius. He'd convert her to his demon ways.

And then Rachel realized what Brittany said, and she looked at Quinn questioningly. Her dad asked the question forming in her mind.

"Is that for the animal rescue? An open house?"

Quinn was looking at Rachel, but dropped her eyes down to Rachel's feet, where her hands started tapping, and nodded. "Yeah."

Brittany plowed right along. "Yeah, she said they have all kinds of animals. Like ducks. So I'm going too."

Rachel stared at Quinn, who stared at Rachel's feet. Her dads took one look at Rachel's face and started stuffing mini carrots in their mouths and pretending they were bunnies with big teeth. Good Lord.

Rachel pulled her feet out of Quinn's lap and sat cross-legged facing her. "Hey." She said quietly.

Really, Rachel's feet were not that interesting. Nobody's feet were. Unless they were, like, webbed or had extra toes or something.

"Bear." Rachel said. Quinn shifted her gaze and looked at Rachel's lips instead. Rachel looked at her for a moment, and then stood up and grabbed Quinn's hand, gently pulling her off the couch and into the hallway to their bedroom.

"We'll be right back." Rachel called to her dads, doubting they could hear her over Santana's racket.

Rachel loved sleeping in Quinn's room. Her bed was like a marshmallow. And all her books and trinkets and games made Rachel feel like she was sleeping in a fairy tale. With a puppy night light that Cornelius liked to pull off the wall.

Fucking Cornelius.

"You didn't tell me you have an open house." Rachel said gently, shutting the door softly and turning to face her girlfriend.

Quinn was running her fingers along her palms rapidly. She swallowed but didn't respond. She was still fixed on Rachel's feet.

"Bear, look at me. Think in pictures, remember?"

Rachel smiled softly when nervous hazel eyes met her own.

"The-the rescue's having an open house." Quinn said quietly.

Well, yeah. Rachel got that part. She waited patiently for Quinn to continue, and tapped her on the cheek with a raised eyebrow when she didn't.

Quinn sighed. "They want-they want me to give a speech."

Rachel's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open ready to grin. Speeches could only be good things in Rachel Berry's world. Mostly because they involved accepting awards or stellar performances.

"Barry says I'm the-the best with the animals, and I'll-I don't-they want-"

"Bear." Rachel placed a steadying hand on Quinn's shoulder, and Quinn took a breath and blinked.

"They think people will-will see how much I care about the animals if I give the speech and they said I've been doing really well, and I'm…If I told you, then you'd want to-to come, and you'll see how I'm gonna… I'm not good with lots of eyes on me, or public speaking, and then people will be mean, and-"

"Quinn." Rachel said softly, stepping closer and gazing into frantic hazel eyes. She would've gone straight for the hug, but the spray cheese on Quinn's shirt didn't look too appetizing.

"What if you could help one dog?" Rachel asked, stilling Quinn's fidgety hands. Quinn looked confused. And sad. Rachel kept her gaze.

"What if, by standing up and saying a few words about these animals you love, you could help one dog? Save one animal? Like Pongo."

Quinn just watched Rachel.

"You can do that. People will listen to you like I did." Rachel leaned in until she was inches from Quinn's face. "Quinn, when you moved in, I had Barnaby, and that's it."

Quinn nodded, listening carefully.

"Now I have a bear, a demon, and an orange Jelly Bean as well. Do you think I would've gotten them by myself?"

Rachel smiled at Quinn's expression. It seemed to be dawning on her that, no, Rachel wouldn't have gotten any of those fucking animals if Quinn hadn't persuaded her.

"You can help these animals, bear. You make them impossible to say no to, and I'll help you , okay? I'll help you with your speech, and give you some tips, because I'm a star and all." Rachel winked. "And you can talk to Tom if you need to, and…You'll be okay. You're okay. And we can save some puppies!"

Quinn flushed and smiled. "Yeah. I can do it."

Rachel chuckled. "Yeah, you can." She pulled Quinn into a hug. A quick hug, because she caught a whiff of Easy Cheese and almost vomited down Quinn's back. Rachel took the liberty of pulling Quinn's shirt off herself, and replacing it with a new one, being as "accidentally" handsy as possible and turning Quinn into a giggling strawberry.

"All good?" Hiram asked as Rachel and Quinn sat back on the loveseat, eyeing Quinn's new shirt and red cheeks, and raising his eyebrows.

"We had a good _talk_." Rachel said, registering that it was actually quiet. It was _quiet_. Santana had stopped her experimental wailing and was smirking in Rachel's direction. Rachel rolled her eyes.

"Would you like some chocolate milk, Leroy? Or Hiram? Or some…uh, beer?" Quinn asked nicely. Rachel noted that Quinn's ears were still crimson and smiled to herself.

"Oh, darling, yes, chocolate milk please!" Leroy replied. Hiram nodded as well, and Quinn vanished into the kitchen with Barnaby at her heels. Rachel would probably find chocolate milk in his water bowl later.

It was better than the Juicy Juice she'd found that one time.

"Is she alright?" Hiram asked concernedly.

Santana snorted. "Girl just had herself a nooner. Of course she's alright."

Santana's eyes widened comically quickly as she seemingly remembered she was speaking to Rachel's _father_, and she sputtered out a "sorry" before turning quickly back to goddamned Rock Band.

Quinn probably didn't even know what a nooner was. Rachel shook her head and smiled reassuringly at her dads. "She's fine."

Leroy grinned at her and leaned halfway across the coffee table. "She's a sweetheart, Rach. Does she take care of you? Because if she does, we approve." He whispered, as if they didn't already.

But God, they'd been home three hours and were already offering approval. That had to be a record. Of course they'd really known Quinn for three months. Rachel could talk a lot in three months. _A lot_.

Rachel pictured Quinn happily piggybacking her for the last half of the dog run, and giving her coloring books when she was sick, and cookies just for fun. She smiled off into space.

"She definitely takes care of me."

"God, you're disgusting." Santana stated, throwing a carrot in her vague direction and selecting a song to "sing" to.

"I think it's sweet." Brittany commented. Jelly was nowhere to be seen. Rachel hoped she'd escaped.

"I think it's hot." Puck spun the drumsticks around, dropping one when he caught Hiram's eye. Rachel needed to teach her friends some self-control. Well, no, that would go horribly, seeing as Rachel barely had any. Somebody else needed to teach Rachel and her friends self-control.

They were interrupted by a banging on the door, and Rachel got up to answer it as Quinn sat back down with glasses of milk. Rachel's eyes widened when she saw the building's security officer on the other side, and she rushed back into the living room.

"Okay, everybody calm down!" she said loudly. "Pretend to be normal!"

Her fathers had carrot teeth in their mouth again, Santana was wailing into the microphone, Puck was about to break the drum set in half, and Barnaby was on Quinn's lap being fed yellow gummy bears.

Fuck. Fuck. See, this is what you get when you break the law, Rachel. It was bound to happen eventually. Were they coming after her for speeding? Oh God. She was going to jail.

Rachel gathered herself and opened the front door, trying to look overly nonchalant and accidentally flipping on the foyer light switch.

"Hello, Ms. Berry. We've gotten a couple noise complaints, so I'd just like to ask you to try to keep it down. If you get another one, you have to pay a fine."

The wailing in the background stopped immediately. Or Rachel finally went deaf.

Fucking Santana.

Rachel was surprised this hadn't happened when she was teaching Barnaby how to sing. Or blasting music and playing on her yoga balls. Or every single day when she sang just for fun. In the shower. While she was cooking. While she was cleaning. When she sang to Quinn to educate her on Broadway classics.

There were just so many opportunities. And, wow, Rachel did have neighbors. Unfortunately, this didn't mean they weren't serial killers.

"Of course, sir. We'll keep it down." Rachel said politely, letting out a deep breath and shutting the door.

The living room was eerily quiet when she sat back down. Rachel wondered how much her neighbors could hear, and how much they just ignored. Maybe Santana's wordless wailing had just driven them over the edge.

Quinn pressed a gummy bear to Rachel's lips, and Rachel smiled and opened her mouth, and then tilted her head up and kissed Quinn on the mouth. Her dads awwed again, and choked on their carrots.

"You know, Quinn, the first conversation we had was about Barnaby." Rachel said quietly into Quinn's ear, making sure her friends were distracted with pressing their ears up against the wall to see if _they_ could hear the _neighbors_.

They wouldn't be able to. They were like ninja serial killers, if they existed at all.

"I think you should talk about that. How animals open up new worlds, provide outlets, you know…Bring people together." Rachel leaned her head on Quinn's shoulder. She didn't really know what she was saying, but…It seemed to fit Quinn. Whatever was coming out of her mouth. Animals. Worlds. Her fathers watched them with small smiles.

"And you can talk about how we got Pongo and Cornelius and Jelly."

Quinn pressed a gummy bear to Rachel's mouth, but Rachel was still talking and wouldn't let it in.

"And about what your plans for the future are."

Quinn smiled and pressed more forcefully. Rachel batted her hand away.

"And we can-"

"Little bear, eat my gummy bear." Quinn said plainly, smiling triumphantly when she was able to put it in Rachel's open mouth. Rachel rolled her eyes and stopped talking. She checked the bag Quinn was pulling the candy out of and smiled.

Yep. Half yellow, which were being fed to Barnaby, and half blue.

Which was Rachel's favorite flavor, and which would be fed to her for the rest of the night.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Are we all here? We all made it to the new year? Great! I wish you all a joyful 2012! So, I'm thinking no more than ten more chapters for this story, and if you guys have any specific things you want to see, lay them out now. When it ends, I'll probably write some kind of follow up, because I'm in love with these characters. I can't thank you all enough for reading and for your wonderful words!

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 20: With My Eyes Closed You're All I See**

Quinn's mind was like a marvelous, imaginary realm, or wonderland. A maze of spontaneous colors and images and feelings, tied together with creative logic and love. Rachel had known this. She had known Quinn didn't think like other people, but reading the draft of Quinn's speech for the open house, Rachel was mesmerized. In total awe.

Her girlfriend's mind was beautiful.

Why couldn't Rachel's mind act like this? Purge the paranoia and mania, and just pure ridiculousness, and try to be more like Quinn's. It was probably because they'd both end up homeless, obese on Twinkies, and living in the zoo.

Oh dear God. Rachel realized she was the responsible one in the relationship. Oh Lord. She looked down at her girlfriend and wondered what would happen if they traded minds. A typical Rachel Berry lazy Sunday afternoon thought.

Mind transplantation.

Quinn lay on her stomach on the grass next to Rachel, doing a maze on the back of a candy wrapper with a neon blue highlighter while Rachel's fathers played with the dogs a few feet away.

Quinn's pretty head probably wouldn't be able to handle Rachel's mind. It was insane and perverted at times, but oh so talented and _loud_. Rachel could barely handle it. She was actually horrified by it a lot of the time.

Like, really, what the fuck was wrong with her thought process? How did it bring her to these places?

Only, looking at Quinn's speech, Rachel figured nothing was wrong. Minds work in different ways. Quinn's just happened to work in an incomprehensible jumble of bright light, candy, animals, and words. Maybe Barnaby could understand it, but nobody else.

"You should write a book." Rachel said absently, eyes tracing over Quinn's lopsided handwriting. Rachel wondered if she consciously said "fuck it" to the lines on the paper, or if her hand just had a mind of its own.

Quinn hummed. She sat cross-legged now, looking at a little boy who was sitting several yards away, watching some other kids play soccer.

"Seriously, Quinn." Rachel said, tearing her eyes off the paper and nudging Quinn's knee with her own. "Write about…I don't know, your experience with Asperger's. Write about your past, and animals, and how you're going to college. And you can throw me in there of course. It'll be inspirational."

Rachel would love to be in a book. Other than her own half-written autobiography and the inevitable "legend of Broadway" mentions she'd get later.

Quinn lolled her head to the side to look at Rachel. She scrunched up her nose like she doubted what Rachel was saying, and Rachel shoved her lightly in the shoulder with a smile.

"Tell her, daddy. Make her write a book."

Yes. Force her. Tie her down and stick a pen in her hand, and Quinn would have no choice. Except Quinn probably wouldn't write. She'd make a game and toss the pen around, or doodle some elephants, or slingshot it at Rachel using her ever-present rubber band.

"You are a very interesting person, Quinn. I'm sure there are kids out there like you, Asperger's or otherwise, who could use some hope." Hiram stated, gazing at Quinn, and ignoring his struggling husband next to him.

Leroy was clinging to Barnaby's collar with all his strength to prevent the dog from bolting into the pond. Cornelius was eating the crusts off Quinn's sandwich, and Pongo had stayed home because he could only handle short walks.

Quinn looked at Hiram and flushed. "Thank you."

Rachel dug through their pile of food for something else to eat and emerged with a fucking Ho-Ho. God. She thought she'd eradicated this mess from her house. They just kept coming back.

Quinn stood up and started walking away from their blanket. It was the fuzzy one with the giraffes on that Rachel had used when she'd been sick.

And oh my God, she hadn't washed it. This was absolutely disgusting.

"Quinn, where are you going?" Rachel asked, wondering if using hand sanitizer now would save her from her own three-month-old germs.

Did germs even stay alive that long? Were germs alive? God. Focus.

Quinn turned and smiled softly at Rachel, and then walked over to the boy sitting several yards away. He looked maybe six or seven, with floppy brown hair and bright eyes. Quinn kneeled down in front of him with a warm expression. The boy looked shy, and he played with his shoelaces as Quinn whispered to him.

Rachel looked at her dads and saw that they were just as engrossed in this as she was.

Quinn was gesturing to the soccer game going on, and the boy shook his head sadly. Quinn sat back on her heels for a minute and studied him, and then pulled one of Barnaby's tennis balls out from God knows where.

Seriously. Where the fuck had that come from? Was she dispensing them now?

Quinn stood up and squeaked the ball, and Leroy had no hope in holding Barnes back at all. The dog bolted wildly past Rachel and stepped in Quinn's macaroni, and then threw himself at Quinn's legs. He made absolutely no attempt to stop himself whatsoever.

Quinn was his wall.

She held Barnaby's collar and handed the ball to the boy, her arm being shaken around by the enthusiastic dog. The boy stood up and looked at Quinn questioningly.

God, this was like a fucking short film. Rachel should be recording this. She couldn't take her eyes away.

Quinn said something, and the boy turned around and threw the ball as hard as he could. It actually went pretty far. This kid was unnaturally strong. Or Rachel was unnaturally weak. Yeah, her dogs usually preferred it when Quinn was their thrower.

Barnaby shot off after the ball and skidded along the ground when he reached it. He came happily trotting back in their direction.

But don't you trust him. That ball is his now to destroy and he will refuse to give it back. Rachel knew this. She respected this. He sprinted after the damn ball, so he should get to keep it.

Rachel smiled when Quinn kneeled down again and placed a hand on the boy's back to whisper in his ear. He giggled. And then Rachel giggled.

Really. She didn't even know what was being said.

The boy went sprinting after Barnaby, who gladly played a little dodge-and-swerve before settling into tug-of-war. He started laughing, and then Rachel started laughing.

Rachel was aware her laugh was unbelievably loud, because what was the point of laughing it you weren't passing your joy on to everybody around you, so of course Quinn turned around with a smile and came back to the blanket, kissing Rachel on the head before sitting down next to her.

"That was nice of you, Quinn." Leroy said brightly, restraining Cornelius in his lap.

Quinn shrugged and Rachel watched her pick at the grass. "He looked lonely."

Rachel nudged her shoulder and stuck her chin out for a kiss. Quinn pretended not to see and sprinkled grass over Rachel's knees. But Rachel could see that smile.

"Baby, give me a kiss." She demanded.

"Quinn, give her a kiss." Hiram added, nudging Leroy.

"Yeah, Quinn, give-Oh shit! No! Corny, wait!" Leroy jumped up to chase after the border collie, who had decided to join Barnaby and the boy in their game. Apparently nobody had informed him that "Corny" was not a viable option for a nickname.

Rachel whined and stuck her chin out again, and Quinn finally chuckled and complied. She brushed the grass off her hands and put one behind Rachel's head, the other on her jaw, and kissed her. Rachel could taste those fucking Fruit Roll-Ups on Quinn's tongue.

They watched Barnaby's game grow bigger as a few kids left the soccer game. They brought more balls and a Frisbee, and asked the boy if they could play, and he nodded enthusiastically.

Wow. Barnaby could control the children. _All _the children. There must be some way to use that. Cornelius was herding them like sheep. Barnaby refused to let anybody other than the boy touch his tennis ball, and even then it was only for tug-of-war. He was not giving it up.

And then he got bored twenty minutes later, and the kids went home, and fucking Cornelius jumped in the pond, and Quinn waded in to retrieve him.

It was only up to her knees but still, Rachel recorded that shit. And then sent it to Santana and Kurt.

She agreed with their responses. Cornelius was a psychopath, and Quinn was just a little bit crazy.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel's dads were due to leave for the airport in ten minutes, but they had shanghaied Quinn out onto the balcony half an hour ago, and were _still_ talking to her. Naturally, Rachel was trying to spy on them, but they shooed her away every time she tried to peer through the glass.

Nobody was jumping off the balcony. Or being thrown off the balcony, which was a good sign. And Quinn didn't seem upset, so Rachel left it alone.

For exactly one minute. And then she crept up to the glass again. She was on her hands and knees when Cornelius shot past her and ran straight into the sliding glass door. Exactly what he'd done a couple months ago as a little puppy.

Rachel wondered if he was legitimately brain-damaged.

He picked himself up and, seeing that he couldn't go out on the balcony, pounced on Rachel instead. Rachel saw her dads glaring at her, and crawled back to sit next to Pongo and rub his fluffy belly.

Cornelius was by her side, and Jelly and Barnaby migrated to her so that she was surrounded by animals when her dads and Quinn came back inside. Rachel studied them carefully. Quinn looked a little teary and flushed, but she was smiling, and she pulled Rachel up with one hand, catching her in a hug.

"Okay, girls. Skype date in two weeks, right?" Leroy checked, dragging two massive suitcases out of Rachel's bedroom.

"Yes, daddy." Rachel confirmed, giving him a hug. He smelled like root beer. And bubble gum. Rachel gave Hiram a hug next and giggled as he swung her side to side. Quinn looked on with a smile.

"Quinn." Hiram stated, putting Rachel down and opening his arms for Quinn. She bit her lip and stepped up slowly, but released that lovely melodic laugh when Hiram picked her up and spun her around.

"Now you girls stay safe. And have fun. And take care of each other, alright?"

Rachel wrapped her around a still giggly Quinn and kissed her on the cheek. "Of course."

"Quinn." Leroy said, and then just winked at her. It was probably the most ridiculous wink Rachel had ever seen, aside from her own. It involved over half his face, and even some shoulder movement.

Quinn flushed and nodded down at her shoes.

Her dads kissed all the animals goodbye, giving extra love to Pongo because they probably wouldn't see him again, and Rachel gave Quinn a hug because that made her sad, and then they escorted Leroy and Hiram down to the cab. Rachel had offered to drive, but her dads hurriedly declined and told her to just get ready for her show that night.

So she'd hit a stop sign once with them in the car. She wasn't _that_ terrible of a driver. How she'd hit a stop sign, she had no fucking idea. She must have executed some kind of brilliant maneuver that involved swerving and leaping up onto the curb.

Rachel settled down with Quinn on the couch when they returned to their apartment.

"What did they say to you?" she asked immediately, taking Quinn's fuzzy sock-clad feet in her lap.

Quinn smiled bashfully. "I love your dads."

Well, awww. But that wasn't the information Rachel was looking for. Rachel tickled Quinn's foot lightly.

"But what did they _say_?" she persisted.

Quinn squirmed her foot out of Rachel's grasp so she could concentrate. Rachel gazed into honest hazel eyes.

"They said you're their world, and I better take care of you. And I said I would, because you're my world too. And they said some other things, about, um, my speech and…me. And then they said if you break my heart, they'll disown you and adopt me." Quinn finished with a laugh.

Rachel huffed. Her fathers. Such jokers.

"Now play with me." Quinn said lightly, tugging at Rachel's shirt and trying to pull it off.

Well. Okay then. Rachel would not argue with that. All huffiness vanished.

She let Quinn pull her shirt over her head, mussing up her hair and making it so she couldn't see. They fell off the couch and onto the floor because of Quinn's exuberant bouncing, and they were attacked by their dogs so they took it to the bedroom.

Quinn's. Not Rachel's, because her fathers had so recently vacated it, and that would just feel weird.

But her dads were gone now, and they could play the horse game!

~oooooooooo~

Rachel's show went well, like always, because Rachel was the star, and she went out with her cast afterwards for drinks. She didn't go with them a lot, mostly because she had an angel of a girlfriend that just drew her back home, but she didn't want them to feel neglected. She couldn't be a star without her supporting cast.

Plus, they were her friends. Of course.

Rachel was not drunk. She had just temporarily forgotten how to walk. And talk and think clearly. She spent two minutes wondering why her leg had vibrated before realizing she got a text. From Quinn! Rachel squealed. God, Quinn was lovely. Quinn was just so lovely and wonderful. She had the best girlfriend.

**Quinn**: **Hey Rach. Are you coming soon? I need to talk to you**.** xo.**

It took Rachel five minutes to focus her eyes on the screen, and to read and comprehend the message. Quinn needed her. Rachel was out of that bar like the Flash.

Well, she tried to get out of that bar like the Flash. She gave Matt some money to pay, way too much money, and then got distracted and starting singing along to the song that was playing. She was sure she knew the words. They just weren't coming to her, so she made them up instead.

Some fucker came up to her and tried to stop her from her awesome dancing, and she realized it was James, and that, oh yeah! Quinn needed her!

Rachel took a cab home and walked up the stairs to her apartment, because she forgot elevators existed. After visiting two wrong floors, she made it to her own, and spent a good while trying to open her door with her car key.

Why the fuck was this not working? She should call a locksmith. Where was her phone?

The door opened and Quinn stood on the other side looking a little worried.

"Big bear!" Rachel exclaimed, throwing herself into Quinn's arms.

God, she'd missed her. They'd been apart _so long_. Quinn smelled like candy. Rachel always wanted to eat her up.

"Hey, baby." Quinn said, kissing Rachel's head and then wincing away at her breath. Rachel clung to her front like a koala.

"I came home for you, Q. Quinnie. Bear. Quinnie-Quinn-Quinn."

Rachel just loved nicknames so much. Where was Seal? She took her head off Quinn's chest and looked around. She loved Seal so much. She wanted to give him a hug.

"Somebody's a little drunk." Quinn said quietly, half-carrying Rachel into the living room. Rachel walked straight into a side table that jumped right into her path out of fucking nowhere, and keeled over in pain.

"Quiiiinnn, call an ambulance." She whined. God, her hip hurt. She should get it replaced.

Quinn scooped her up bridal style and carried Rachel towards their bedroom, small smile on her face. "No, little bear. You're okay. But it's bedtime."

Rachel struggled in Quinn's arms, but they didn't loosen. Her girlfriend was so strong, she could beat up all the bad guys. "I came home 'cause you said you wanteded to talk. So let's talk. Talk. Talk."

Rachel was serious. She let Quinn tumble her onto the bed, then found she was unable to sit up straight for some reason, and tilted to the side until she was lying down and watching Quinn. Quinn smiled at her and brushed the hair out of her eyes.

"Tomorrow morning, Rachel. You're kind of a mess."

Excuse me. Rachel Berry was never a mess. Sure, she couldn't seem to support the upper half of her body right now, but she was not a mess.

Quinn started pulling off her jeans, and Rachel grinned brightly and pulled her girlfriend down on top of her. She ruffled the blonde hair that ended up in her mouth, and Quinn ducked out of Rachel's grasp and rolled off the bed to stand up again.

"Let me take off your pants, Rachel."

Hey, by all means. Rachel was not arguing that. She let Quinn undress her, and then forced Quinn to give her the dinosaur top to wear to bed. It smelled magical. Quinn crawled into bed next to her and stilled Rachel's wandering hands.

Well that was no fun.

Rachel wrapped all four limbs around Quinn and buried her face in Quinn's neck.

"Love you, biggy bear." Rachel mumbled, slobbering all over Quinn's neck. Quinn didn't flinch though. She held Rachel tighter.

"Love you, drunky. Night night." Quinn murmured, stroking dark hair softly until Rachel fell asleep half a second later.

Rachel woke up exactly four hours later, and lay still for twenty minutes trying to calm the throbbing in her head and the nausea, and wondering what the hell happened. She remembered when she risked tilting her face up to see Quinn's eyes, wide awake and shiny and staring at the ceiling.

Oh yeah.

"Hey, Quinn." Rachel said quietly, sitting up _extremely_ slowly. God, she was about to fucking vomit. There could be nothing worse than vomiting in bed, all over the bed. She hoped she'd never have to experience that.

"It's three a.m., Rach. Go back to sleep." Quinn said huskily.

Rachel shook her head. And holy shit. She was never doing that again. She reached over and turned on the light on the bedside table, temporarily blinding herself and making the throbbing come back full force.

"Don't throw up on me." Quinn said quietly. She hadn't sat up, but she buried her nose in Pooh Bear and hugged Fuzzy tightly.

"I won't." Rachel assured, hoping she could keep that promise. She leaned down until she could see Quinn's eyes. They were red. And Rachel felt that pressure in her heart again.

"Quinn, what's wrong?" Rachel asked softly. "Why did you need to talk to me?"

Quinn swallowed and wiped her nose on Pooh Bear. "We can talk when the sun comes up."

"No. You're sad and I want to make it better."

Rachel brushed blonde hair out of Quinn's eyes as she sat up, back against the headboard, Pooh against her chest. She sat there for a few minutes taking steady breaths.

"I can't afford NYU." Quinn said quietly.

Rachel stared at her. This conversation might be a little long. Rachel was hungover and unable to process much, and it was three fucking a.m.

"What? What about financial aid?"

"It's not-it's not enough. It'll cover maybe half. And then…" Quinn trailed off and Rachel moved to sit next to her, squeezing one of Quinn's arms to her chest. She searched for an easy solution.

"Well, what if I cover the rest? I can-"

"No." Quinn cut her off. "That's exactly-That's the kind of thing Tom-Tom said to always avoid."

Rachel narrowed her eyes in the dim light. "We can figure it out. Do you-"

"I'm going to ask my aunt." Quinn blurted, and then stuck her face back in Pooh's fur. Rachel ran her fingers through blonde hair nervously. That didn't seem like a wonderful plan. Quinn spoke again before Rachel could start ranting about Lisa and all her horrible qualities.

"She was willing to pay for Columbia. I think she'll-she'll pay for NYU. I mean, I'm doing it so I can get real job-"

"You have a real job." Rachel interrupted quietly. She let go of Quinn's arm and slid off the bed and stood up. God, she'd basically banished Lisa from their lives. Fucking oops.

And dude, she was wearing a dinosaur shirt.

Quinn's eyes followed her as she paced around the room. "You know what I mean…" she said softly. "And she's family. She's not-she's not as bad as you think."

Rachel sighed and stopped pacing, meeting Quinn's anxious eyes. It was too fucking early for this. Or late. "Quinn, honey, she's a horrible influence. _Maybe_ her heart is in the right place, but-"

"I won't listen to her." Quinn said quickly, like she was trying to convince Rachel of something. "I know what I'm doing, and who I am, and I won't listen to her. Whatever she says. I'll listen to you, and Tom, and…myself." Quinn scrunched up her face. That sounded a little weird.

Rachel smiled a little. Quinn really wasn't as easily influenced or gullible as she'd been when she'd first moved in. She'd laughed when Rachel had told her she was giving Cornelius away to a nice family on a farm last week. Maybe her aunt wouldn't be such an overlord this time.

An evil overlord.

Maybe she'd give Quinn what she needed. Just a little help.

"You want to call her tomorrow?" Rachel asked carefully, approaching the bed again.

Quinn nodded slowly, rubbing her fingers over the spot where Fuzzy's fourth leg was supposed to be. Quinn's eyes were shiny again, and Rachel climbed back onto the bed next to her and wrapped her arms around Quinn and the stuffed animals.

"Are you mad at me?" Quinn mumbled into Pooh's head.

Did Rachel like setting puppies on fire? No, she did not.

"Of course not, Quinn. I'm on your side, no matter what."

Quinn smiled slightly. "Making it better."

"Making it better." Rachel confirmed, laying her head on Quinn's shoulder when her headache came rushing back with a vengeance. God. She was never drinking again. Quinn had the right idea. Chocolate milk for the win.

Rachel shifted Pooh on Quinn's chest so that she could use him as a pillow.

"There's something…that Pooh used to say, that reminds me of you." Quinn said quietly, running her fingers through Rachel's hair.

Like, _this_ Pooh? Did this thing talk? It was too damn early.

Quinn continued. "He said, if you want to make a song more hummy, add a few tiddely poms."

And Rachel fell in love all over again, hungover at three a.m., ready to vomit and feeling like her skull was about to crack open. She could hear the smile in Quinn's voice.

"He also said, it's hard to be brave when you're only a very small animal."

Rachel lolled her head over and kissed Quinn's belly. She didn't have the strength to sit up and reach her face. "You're brave, baby." She mumbled. God, she couldn't keep her eyes open.

"Because I'm a bigger than he is."

Wait, bigger than who is?

Okay. This conversation went around some kind of bend somewhere along the line. Rachel rolled with it, knowing she was about to crash with it and fall asleep.

"Yes. You're bigger than he is."

"Bigger than Pooh Bear."

God, they were just drunk on exhaustion. Rachel smiled into Quinn's stomach. The hand in her hair felt so wonderful.

"Yes. Because you're my big bear."

Rachel registered on some level that she was saying ridiculous, sappy things, but she fell asleep in Quinn's arms before she could bring herself to care.


	21. Chapter 21

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 21: You've been the Song in the Background, Turning up Now**

Rachel was preparing dinosaur egg oatmeal when they made the call. Quinn had seen it in the grocery store and requested it, and Rachel complied because she was in awe of this phenomenon. Colored dinosaurs emerged from tiny eggs made of sugar.

It was fucking magical. And Quinn was delighted.

But right now Quinn sat ramrod straight at the kitchen bar with Jelly in front of her, sprawled over the phone and looking for attention. Quinn wasn't giving it. She ran her hands along her red reindeer pajamas nervously.

Rachel was trying to keep her thoughts of "this is the worst fucking idea ever" and "this will determine Quinn's fate and the rest of our lives forever" inside her head. She was aware they were just a tiny bit dramatic, but she _just kept thinking them_.

And watching dinosaurs emerge.

"Quinn. This is amazing." Rachel stated overly brightly, sliding a bowl full of transforming eggs in front of Quinn and hopping up onto the chair next to her.

Quinn switched her somber gaze from the kitty-covered-phone to her food, and her eyes lit up a little. She looked at Rachel's bowl and they widened even more.

"Wait, why do you have so many triceratopses? All I have are stegosauruses!"

Wow. Rachel had a girlfriend who could successfully pluralize stegosaurus. She wasn't so sure about the triceratops, because she wasn't a damn paleontologist. Really, Rachel could be eating fucking velociraptors for all she knew. She willingly traded bowls, even though Quinn's was covered in a mountain of powdered sugar, and Quinn ate all her dinosaurs before switching to the actual oatmeal.

Quinn had brightened by the time they shoved Jelly off the phone to call Lisa, and Rachel had determined they would both be diabetic before they turned thirty.

Quinn looked at her nervously, fingers hovering over the numbers, and Rachel gave her a dorky thumbs-up and a confident nod. She still wasn't sure that this was a good idea. At all. But Quinn smiled slightly, and Rachel took her free hand as she dialed, stopping it from playing with the spoons on the counter.

"Hello?" Lisa said loudly over the speakerphone.

Rachel knocked two of the spoons off the counter she was so startled. This woman always seemed to terrify her when they crossed paths. And yep, she still sounded like a blender.

Rachel watched the words get stuck in Quinn's throat, and her jaw work up and down a few times before Quinn gathered herself and spoke.

"Hi, Aunt Lisa. It's Quinn…And Rachel."

There was a pause for a second, and Rachel swallowed more of her oatmeal extremely slowly because it sounded like the loudest thing in the world right now. God, could she swallow more loudly? No. It was impossible. Did Quinn hear that? Why was her apartment so quiet? Where were all the damn animals?

"Oh. Hello…Quinn. How are you?" Lisa didn't sound cold or unwelcoming, maybe just unsure. Surprised. Rachel couldn't blame her. She'd almost shanked the woman with a spork the last time they spoke.

"I'm well, thank you." Quinn said slowly and clearly.

Rachel swallowed again, contracting her neck muscles like a python to make it as quiet as possible. She started choking, and Quinn stared at her and then thumped her on the back.

"Who was that? Is that Rachel? Is she alright?" Lisa said through the speaker, tone more curious than concerned.

Rachel nodded vigorously. God, pull yourself together. Fucking dinosaur oatmeal. Quinn smiled and tweaked her ear.

"Yes, Lisa, I'm fine, thank you." Rachel said, shoving her bowl away because it was only causing problems. "Quinn has some news for you!"

Again, there was silence. Rachel didn't choke this time.

"Alright, then. Let's hear it."

Rachel looked at Quinn expectantly, and Quinn nodded slightly and took a deep breath. Rachel was prepared to stop her and bring her back should she lose her words a little along the way. Jelly was too, as she went slinking along the kitchen counter with her good eye looking in Rachel and Quinn's direction.

"I'm going to NYU." Quinn started. Her fingers fidgeted even while Rachel held them. "I'm doing the two year accelerated degree program for biology, with a minor in animal studies, because I want to work at the zoo professionally. I start-I start this summer. And I can do pre-vet if I want, I just-I just haven't decided yet."

Quinn took another breath and licked her lips. She looked surprised when she came away with powdered sugar, and Rachel smiled and squeezed her hand.

It was silent again. God. Lisa was just an expert at building suspense. Or outrage.

"Well…I guess you finally decided to listen to me."

Hmm.

Quinn looked like she didn't know what to say to that, so Rachel gladly stepped in. Very gladly. She reined it in a little bit because, you know, they were asking this woman for thousands of dollars of tuition. They should probably be nice to her.

Or be so passive-aggressive that it _seemed_ like they were being nice. But that couldn't be healthy.

"Quinn actually made this decision on her own, Lisa. On her own time, when it was right for her, and with unconditional support."

Rachel heard Lisa sigh over the phone. That, or their phone was malfunctioning and projecting odd noises. Rachel wouldn't be surprised.

"Okay, then. Either way, it's the right decision. You might have a future, Quinn."

Quinn looked down at her lap and Rachel narrowed her eyes.

"But I don't understand why you're telling me. Your girlfriend made it pretty clear that I was some kind of terrible influence on you." Lisa stated.

Quinn took another breath. She looked at Rachel like she'd rather be anywhere but there, at that breakfast bar having that conversation. Quinn looked distraught, and Rachel stood up and wrapped her arms around her from behind. She kissed Quinn's ear encouragingly.

"I've-I've qualified and applied for a few scholarships, and with that, plus government aid and savings…I can only afford about half the tuition. I thought since-"

"You thought I could pay for the rest." Lisa interrupted.

Quinn shook her head around like this was physically painful. It was for Rachel. Quinn's head hit her in the jaw, but she just tightened her hold when Quinn twisted to apologize. Rachel nodded towards the phone.

"I thought-I mean, you were-you were willing to pay for Columbia, and this is still…college. I'm just starting a little bit later. I can always-We can-I mean-"

Rachel tapped Quinn's cheek at the same time as Lisa spoke. "Quinn, Quinn. Listen, of course I'll pay for NYU. It's what I always wanted for you, and you know that."

Well alrighty then. Time to hang up.

"But I want you to do pre-vet." Lisa added.

Crap.

Quinn was silent. Rachel tried not to choke on her saliva.

"Okay." Quinn said quietly after a few moments. Rachel stared at her with wide eyes. And then at the phone, like she was waiting for it to come alive.

"Alright, then-"

"What? No!" Rachel cut Lisa off, unwrapping her arms from Quinn and moving to stand right next to the counter. "Ms. Fabray, you can't just-"

"Rachel, Rachel it's fine." Quinn said softly, gently trying to pull Rachel away from the phone. Rachel stared at her incredulously and allowed herself to be moved like a ragdoll.

Fucking strings, man. She knew they were coming. Rachel didn't even hear what Quinn said as she hung up with Lisa. All of her energy was directed into the disbelieving stare that was boring into Quinn's soul. _Into Quinn's soul_. She hoped her girlfriend could feel it.

"Quinn!"

Quinn looked a little bit frightened, and very confused, as she stood up from the bar to face Rachel.

"How can you let her do that?" Rachel asked loudly, flailing her arms about with exasperated energy. If she spun them around enough, she could take off, fly the fuck out of here and to whichever part of suburbia Lisa called home.

"Do what?" Quinn asked, standing stock still and staring at her.

"Let her manipulate you again! Tie you up in strings. Quinn, I knew this was a horrible idea."

Yeah, it was one string. But it was such an important one, it was basically a rope.

Quinn glanced around the room like she was looking for answers. "She's not-she's not manipulating me. I'll do pre-vet because I want to, not because she's-"

"No, you _think_ you want to! She's putting it in your head because it's the only way she'll pay for college." Rachel wasn't yelling, but she was desperately trying to get her point across, and was only minutely aware, deep in her subconscious, that she was losing a couple of her marbles at the moment.

Or all her marbles. Did she have any left?

"Rachel, I'm doing all this for myself! You know that. I can think for myself." Quinn stated, raising her voice. She was so soft-spoken that it barely made any difference, but all of the animals came sauntering out of the bedroom when they heard it.

They were curious. What was this? An _argument_? Oh goodness.

Rachel saw Quinn's shiny eyes and shut herself up immediately. It was open house day. Speech day. This isn't what she wanted. She reached for Barnaby's leash, and he came bounding towards her happily.

"I know. I know, Quinn." Rachel said, softening her expression and speaking quietly. "That's not what I meant… I'm gonna go for a walk, okay? I'll see you at the open house."

Quinn nodded sadly, and Rachel walked over and kissed her softly on the cheek before escorting Barnaby out the door.

The first thing Rachel did when her feet hit the sidewalk was call Tom. The open house was due to start at noon, so she had two hours to locate her marbles and get her shit together.

~oooooooooo~

The first thing Tom asked is where the hell they were able to find dinosaur egg oatmeal in the city, because his son would love it. Next, after Rachel told him where the nearest Target was, and explained what had happened, he told Rachel that she was overreacting. Yes, Rachel was aware, so they moved on from that point quickly. Tom said that she was acting like a concerned and loving girlfriend, just getting carried away like she tended to do, and all she needed to do was talk to Quinn.

Just talk to her. That was easy.

He said Quinn, and people with Asperger's in general, wouldn't be able to deal with that passive-aggressive, beating around the bush bullshit. She needed a straightforward conversation.

Rachel could do that. She had already known that, and she could do that.

Barnaby had thoroughly enjoyed his two hour walk, and he was still bounding along beside Rachel as they made their way to the open house. It was actually pretty crowded along the street. Lots of dogs. Cats. Children who should be locked up in the cages instead of the dogs. Random things that looked like badgers. Geez, where did these things come from?

Rachel slithered in through the front door, dragging her excited goldie behind her, and made her way out to the large exercise yard where the main event was taking place.

Hopefully they'd picked up all the dog crap before setting up.

"Rachel!" Rachel spun around at the excited squeal and smiled when Brittany frolicked over to her, a duck in her arms.

A duck. In her arms.

"Brittany, hey! What've you got there?" Rachel asked brightly, leaning backwards as a beak shot out to peck at her. Peck away at her eyes. Rachel was having pigeon flashbacks.

Santana emerged from the crowd with the most humorless, somber expression Rachel had ever seen on her face. She looked resigned to some kind of fate. Like the gallows. Maybe a painful death.

"They rescue ducks here, who've, like, hurt their wings and stuff." Brittany explained brightly. "And this guy was born here, and he's never been out in the wild, because the other ducks might hurt him or he'd die or something. So we're adopting him!"

Rachel bit her cheek until it bled to keep from laughing. Santana just seemed ready to murder somebody. Preferably a duck, but that probably wasn't going to happen, so that murderous gaze was just fixed on Rachel.

"We named him Flappy!" Brittany exclaimed.

Oh dear God.

"It's great that you're rescuing an animal, Britt." The mental images assaulting Rachel's brain were making it impossible to not laugh at Santana. Rachel needed to get out of there. "Have you guys seen Quinn?"

Brittany nodded, rocking the duck like a baby and ignoring its seemingly angry, frenzied squawks. Santana's gaze softened a tiny bit, and she tilted her head towards the back of the small stage.

"She was freaking out a little, Berry. Go calm her down."

Brittany nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, San said she'd beat up anybody who didn't like Quinn's speech, but I don't think Quinn believed her."

Rachel smiled her thanks, and then lost her mind for half a second and reached out to pat the duck on the head. She wrapped the bite with a napkin, surprised that ducks could draw blood, because really, they didn't have teeth. Right? Rachel wasn't going to check any time soon.

She found Quinn easily, sitting on the steps on the back side of the stage and rocking back and forth. Quinn shot up when she saw Rachel, reached her in two strides, and wrapped her in a hug.

Rachel returned it and rubbed Quinn's quivering back. "You're okay, bear. I love you."

"Love you. Love you too. Love you so much." Quinn said into Rachel's hair. Rachel had to smile. She pulled back and stepped away to tie Barnaby to a pole. She was going to tie him to one of the metal stage supports, but she figured he'd catch sight of something cool, shoot off, and make the stage collapse.

With Quinn on it. Which wouldn't be ideal.

"Quinn, I just want to ask you a question, okay?" Rachel said, grabbing both of Quinn's shaky hands.

"What happened to your hand?" Quinn asked abruptly, looking down at the napkin-bandage Rachel had constructed. Blood was soaking through, and it was a little bit disgusting.

Rachel shook her head. "It's nothing. Britt's duck bit me."

Quinn frowned and moved her hand up like she was going to kiss it better, but seemed to change her mind halfway there. Rachel thought it was for the best. Who knows where that duck had been.

Oh God, did she need some kind of shot?

Quinn stepped closer, rubbing Rachel's hand lightly. "Go ahead. Ask me." Bright, anxious hazel eyes focused on Rachel's.

"Do you want to be a vet?"

One question. That's all Rachel had. Straightforward and easy. She would roll with whatever the answer was.

"Yes." Quinn said, lips quirked up. She looked excited. And crazy nervous. Rachel scanned her face, though she knew Quinn was pretty much incapable of lying. A "yes" was good enough for her.

Rachel smiled and leaned up and kissed Quinn. "I'm sorry for earlier. You're a sweetheart, baby, and the world isn't, and I want to protect you."

Quinn flushed and Rachel ruffled her hair, chuckling when Quinn squirmed away.

"Thanks." Quinn said quietly.

Rachel glanced around at the increasing crowd, and then at her phone. Quinn had five minutes before her speech. It was a fucking madhouse. Animal house. Pet-filled mob.

"How are you doing?" Rachel asked, nudging Barnaby with her foot as he strangled himself to reach a group of passing children.

What he was planning to do with those children should he reach them, Rachel didn't know.

Quinn took a deep breath and looked at Rachel with her own strangled expression. Rachel expected nothing less. They were surrounded by people. Quinn was about to _talk_ to all of them. Rachel squeezed her shaky hands again and Quinn shifted her weight from side to side.

"Alright, baby. Breathe. Remember, just breathe." Rachel rubbed Quinn's back some more.

"You've practiced this, you know this, you got this. Right? If anything happens, I'll jump on stage and start singing _My Man_."

Or _Don't Rain on My Parade_. Which one would the "dog crowd" appreciate more? Either way, they would leave this place with applause.

Quinn shook her head around anxiously before lolling it backward and staring at the sky. Her eyes darted from side to side. Rachel wondered what to do.

Drug her up? Nah. Probably not a good idea.

Quote a cuddly bear? Yes. Definitely.

"Quinn, bear, look at me." Rachel said softly, waiting for Quinn to look down and then ducking to meet her eyes.

"You…were quoting Pooh Bear to me the other night."

In some sort of oddly-turned, half-drunken, exhausted conversation that Rachel looked back on fondly. Quinn was breathing shallowly but Rachel could tell she was listening.

"So now, I have some wisdom for you. Are you ready for this?" Rachel asked like she was about to impart the secrets of the world.

Quinn nodded slightly. Rachel squeezed her hands tighter. "Are you sure?" she asked.

Quinn nodded again. Rachel smiled. "Are you absolutely sure, Quinn, because-"

"Rachel!" Quinn whined, looking back at the sky and then down at Rachel again.

"Okay, okay. Big bear…If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together, there is something you must always remember."

Rachel couldn't imagine a tomorrow like that, but she was preserving the accuracy of the quote, and A. A. Milne would be proud. Pooh Bear would be proud. Quinn probably knew this quote, so she'd be proud as well.

But she'd be proud anyway.

"You are braver than you believe," Rachel paused so it would sink in, "stronger than you seem…and smarter than you think." Rachel spoke slowly and clearly, and Quinn's eyes were fixed on hers, breathing slowing down as the masses gathered around the stage.

"But the most important thing is…Even if we're apart, I'll always be with you." Rachel finished. Quinn didn't say anything, and Rachel tapped her cheek. She still didn't say anything, so Rachel gave her a hug.

"Quinn, you're here for the animals. For what you love, okay, so just go out there and talk about them."

"Bears." Quinn blurted.

Well alrighty. Bears. Bears for the win.

Rachel smiled at her and then pulled back and straightened the small bow on Quinn's dress. She untied Barnaby from his pole, and he celebrated like he'd been stranded on a desert island. Rachel was struck with sudden inspiration, which happens a lot because she's Rachel and she's brilliant, and she handed the leash over to Quinn.

"Take him up there. If he leaps off the stage or something…I'll catch him."

Yeah fucking right. If Barnaby jumped off the stage they'd be dealing with a stampede.

Quinn nodded and patted his head, twisting the leash around her fingers. Rachel gave her one last kiss, lingering for a moment to try to ground Quinn. She was probably sending her up in the air again, because that's what kisses did to Rachel, but whatever. It was better than limbo.

Rachel plopped down in the grass at the front of the stage next to Santana, Brittany, and Flappy. She stayed far from Flappy. As far as possible. But she knew if he wanted to attack her, he would. There was no stopping him.

He was an angry bird.

"Here to talk about the joy of adopting animals is one of our most valued handlers. She's only been here for three months, but she knows exactly how to make all the animals fall in love with her, and maybe the staff too." Barry spoke from the podium with a smile, and some kind of bird on his shoulder.

God, they were everywhere.

"Please welcome Quinn Fabray and her little monster Barnaby."

Rachel clapped loudly and hooted as Quinn walked up the steps, or Barnaby dragged her up the steps, and over to the podium. Santana whistled, which obviously terrified the duck, because it flapped its wings and hollered like somebody lit it on fire.

If only Rachel had a lighter.

Quinn looked mildly alarmed as she stared down at it from the stage. Rachel understood. She was terrified. But she tore her gaze from the violent duck and fixed it on Quinn.

Quinn's mouth was open slightly, but she hadn't said anything. She was looking out over the crowd, and she shook her head once, bouncing her hair around, and looked at Rachel. Rachel grinned exaggeratedly and tapped her own lips.

Words. Start with words. And a smile.

After that, Rachel had no fucking idea, but this smile was not leaving her face. Quinn needed it.

"Hello, everybody!" Quinn greeted brightly, clinging tightly to Barnaby's leash. Rachel could see her chest heaving.

"Yo!" Santana yelled. Rachel rolled her eyes, but smiled at her gratefully.

Any sort of familiarity would be good for Quinn.

"Thank you-thank you for coming to support the animal rescue today. Even if you're not adopting, even if you're just looking around at all these sweet faces, your support means the world to us."

Quinn took a deep breath and rocked up on her tip toes. Two sentences and she was probably exhausted. She clacked her teeth together. Rachel willed her to talk. Talk about anything. Bears. Stegosauruses. Oatmeal.

Barnaby jumped up and put his front paws against Quinn's stomach, face on the podium. He was probably looking for food. All he'd had for breakfast was dog food. It was crazy. Where were his waffles?

Quinn shoved him down and chuckled, visibly relaxing as she ruffled his ears.

"This is Barnaby, my second best friend in the whole world. His favorite foods are Sugar Puffs and maple syrup, and he loves to go swimming in the park in the middle of winter if the ponds aren't frozen."

The audience was laughing. They probably thought Quinn was joking. She was actually just listing facts about Barnaby, but Rachel laughed along because some of what Barnaby did might qualify as mistreatment of animals and she didn't want to be arrested.

Quinn blinked exaggeratedly and lightly banged her fist against the podium a couple times, and then started her short speech, slowly and clearly.

"A dog's face… can change a life. It can change a mind…A perspective. It can inspire emotion, and it can bring comfort. On a horrible day, when you're running late or you're out of cookies, and nobody's talking to you, and people are being mean…A dog will be there. Or a cat. Or a duck." Quinn paused and flashed a smile in Flappy's direction.

"And they-they ask nothing in return, except maybe waffles and Sugar Puffs. They sit there with their alert ears and trusting eyes and loyal hearts and souls, and listen to you cry or laugh or complain, and they keep coming back. They don't change. Humans can say 'oh, today I want to be an owl,' but dogs are consistent."

Rachel always got a little lost at that point, wondering how she could transform into an owl, and how the hell Quinn had worked that into her speech.

"Animals don't understand why-why the people who are supposed to take care of them, to love them…abandon them. Or neglect them…So they end up here. If they're lucky. And they get to sit in cages and crates all day long, hoping somebody picks them to take home."

Quinn took a breath and patted Barnaby's head for a moment. "I don't think that'd be fun. Sitting in cages, waiting for someone to save you. I mean, I know it's not. I grew up in a children's home for eight years, until my aunt adopted me. Even then, I wasn't… happy…or loved. Or saved. That didn't change until Barnaby came along."

Rachel's vision was going blurry, and she gripped the grass tightly so she wouldn't stand up and initiate some sort of inappropriate public display of affection. Santana kept insisting it was raining. On her face. And nowhere else.

"And that's because the first conversation I had with my girlfriend, my first love, _only_ love, was about Barnaby…Over Barnaby. As he happily lay on his back and let us rub his tummy."

Santana had to grab Rachel's arm to prevent her from rushing the stage. Quinn was smiling at her with those shiny hazel eyes, and she looked so in love, no matter how haltingly her words were coming out, and Rachel was just so proud-God. She was overwhelmed.

Pull it the fuck together. Rein it in, Rachel.

That was not working.

"Barnaby was like a bridge for us. I'm not…good with people, so…he made it easier. Animals bring people together. They have…different colored eyes, and way more patterns and colors than people, and, I mean, it would be pretty cool to see a human with permanent Dalmatian spots, but…"

Quinn seemed to lose her train of thought for a moment as she gazed out at the crowd. Rachel lost it too. It was long gone. That wasn't even in the speech. Quinn was lost in her mind until Barnaby tried to charge off the stage and she had to pull him back.

"And, um." Quinn blinked her eyes again and licked her lips. "It might not seem like animals make things easier when they're eating your DVD player or flooding your kitchen…but they do. When you need a happy face to make you smile. They-they do."

Rachel had lost herself about four minutes ago. Quinn was making her fall in love with Barnaby. That couldn't be normal. She wasn't supposed to be in love with her dog. God, she wanted to adopt this whole damn animal rescue now. _All_ the animals. Bring them all home.

"Technically, Barnaby belongs to my girlfriend, Rachel."

"Yeah, right!" Santana yelled, leaning into Rachel to keep her distance from the raging duck in Brittany's arms.

Quinn smiled down at the podium. "Rachel is the most kind-hearted, caring woman I know, and together we've brought three other rescues into our home. She calls them a demon, a polar bear, and a jelly bean, and…they kind of are. But they're our family now."

Rachel wondered what the demon was destroying right now.

"I just hope some of you, or all of you, will take a chance on these animals. Just one chance. They won't disappoint, and they'll give you love and smiles as long as they live."

Pssht. Flappy didn't seem to agree with that.

"So thank you for coming. And if you like animals, I suggest visiting the zoos. You can sit and watch the polar bears in Central Park, or the lions in the Bronx. Oh, and the-the Bronx Zoo has zebras as well. And elephants."

And elephants. Elephants was the last word of Quinn's speech, and she blinked and turned around abruptly, dragging Barnaby over to the steps as the audience applauded.

Rachel saw an empty stage and instinctively wanted to fill it and sing _My Man_ for all these wonderful people. She tried to control her urges. The microphone was _calling_ her.

The mass around the stage started to break up as everybody went back to looking around at all the animals up for adoption and informational booths. Rachel walked towards the stage and Quinn met her halfway.

"That was perfect!" Rachel squealed, jumping up with her hands on Quinn's shoulders to kiss Quinn's mouth. Quinn smiled into it and her ears turned red.

"Do you-do you think people listened?"

"Oh my God, bear, you had Santana in tears. Yeah, they listened. You were breaking some hearts, baby."

Quinn bit her lip. She looked excited now. Uh-oh.

"I have something to show you." She stated, taking Rachel's hand before Rachel even consented and leading her cautiously through the crowd. A train of three with Barnaby as the caboose.

They came to a stop in front of the cat area.

Shit.

Quinn stepped aside so that Rachel could see into the cage they were in front of, and Rachel stepped forward hesitantly. Quinn bit her lip. She looked hopeful. Eyes bright, staring at Rachel.

Inside the cage were the two largest cats Rachel had ever seen. They were huge-ass monsters. Beasts. Like Clifford the Big Red Dog, in cat form. Rachel looked at the tags warily. The big blob of white was a female named Butter.

Butter. How could you be anything but morbidly obese with a name like butter?

Butter had two different colored eyes. One blue, one yellow. Her buddy was a ball of smoky gray named George. Apparently they'd been abandoned by the Hudson, malnourished and underweight, and had now compensated for that by becoming unbelievably fat.

Ridiculously, astonishingly _fat_.

"Quinn." Rachel didn't know what to say. Could these animals even fit in a cat carrier? Or, God, in her apartment?

"Little Bear." Quinn whispered, looking at her hopefully.

Rachel stared at her for a moment, and then back at the cats. They seemed playful. They looked about as capable of exercise as Rachel did when she was rolling about on her yoga balls, but they were playful.

Rachel sighed and dropped her forehead onto Quinn's chest to hide her smile.

"You have to put them on a diet."

Quinn made an excited noise in her throat and hugged Rachel tightly. Barnaby whined when Butter whacked him on the nose with her paw. Rachel groaned.

"I'll take care of them." Quinn promised.

And that was it. They were at six. Rachel had gained five animals in four months, plus a bear named Quinn who required daily feeding.

She laughed into Quinn's chest. It was all she could do.


	22. Chapter 22

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 22: And My Own Two Hands Will Comfort You **

Rachel was realizing a lot of things about her car, things she shouldn't _just_ be realizing, as Quinn drove it cautiously around a parking lot on the outskirts of the city. Like she didn't know how to turn the hazards on. Or how to reset the odometer, or pop the hood, or change the settings on her stereo.

She wasn't even completely sure how to recline her seat.

She should know these things. _Quinn_ knew these things. Quinn, who had read the owner's manual when Rachel told her she was going to give her a driving lesson, and who was now navigating the parking lot like a pro. Rachel was learning from her. This had backfired.

Rachel was subtly trying to tilt her seat back without Quinn noticing, so that she wasn't sitting at a thirty degree angle hunched over herself. She pulled a lever and shot backwards, then settled herself and stared nonchalantly out the window, ignoring Quinn's amused eyes.

Yeah. She knew what she was doing. Pssht. This was her fucking car.

Rachel couldn't even imagine a scenario when Quinn would need to drive in the city, but whatever. It was fun. And Quinn needed a picture ID now that she was starting college in a week.

A single week. They'd bought textbooks that morning, and Rachel was still throwing a fit in her head about how a general chemistry book could cost two hundred fucking dollars. It was like Quinn was paying for her own doom.

Except it wouldn't be doom for Quinn. It was like dawn, and both she and Rachel were excited.

"Ready to try parallel parking, Quinn?"

Rachel was apprehensive. She, herself, was a disastrous parallel parker, and she'd rear-ended two cars and side-swiped a street light before coming to that conclusion eight years ago. If Rachel was running errands and parallel parking was her only option, she'd say "fuck it" and move on to the next thing.

It just wasn't worth it. Those groceries, that bank deposit, the emergency room at the hospital. They weren't worth it.

"I don't like your air freshener, Rachel." Quinn stated bluntly instead of answering. She waited at the parking lot exit to pull into the side street, looking both ways with bright eyes.

Rachel frowned and stared at her for a second and then shoved her lightly in the shoulder.

"_I_ do. It's like a tropical forest. Very stimulating."

Quinn looked at her with a suggestive grin, hazel eyes sparkling. Rachel snorted and shoved her again, harder this time. Quinn let go of the wheel and leaned over the armrest, straining against her seatbelt to kiss Rachel's cheek.

Rachel palmed Quinn's face and leaned away. "Quinn! Pay attention. We'll go rolling out into the street and die and you'll never see all your animals again."

Quinn whined and swatted Rachel's arm away, leaning further over the arm rest. Rachel sighed and bit her lip to keep from smiling. She jutted her cheek out for Quinn to kiss, huffing for good measure, and then she patted the blonde hair like a puppy.

Quinn smiled happily. "Thank you."

Rachel hummed. She directed Quinn over to an open spot on the side of the street, and Quinn pulled up in front of it, ready to back in.

Rachel should not be the one teaching this.

"What kind of air freshener would you like?" Rachel asked. The tropical forest was sort of suffocating. And nauseating. And Rachel had only gotten it to cover up the smell of Barnaby's vomit in the back seat.

It wouldn't work if the air freshener made Quinn vomit.

Quinn turned the wheel and backed slowly into the parking spot. She glanced at Rachel distractedly. This probably wasn't the best time for this conversation.

"Um, you. I mean, I guess-I guess this is okay because you like it," Quinn gestured at the hanging tree, keeping one hand on the wheel, "but I want my car to smell like you. If I ever get a car."

Alright. Just a tiny bit weird. A little odd, but sweet. Rachel wondered if she could bottle her scent. She was such a star, people would probably buy it in hopes of absorbing some of her talent. She should look into that.

"Or cookies. Peanut butter cookies. Or sugar. Or chocolate chip."

Rachel smiled. "They actually make those."

Quinn ran into the curb, violently jolting the car, and looked at Rachel with bright eyes, ignoring the temporary terror in the brown ones. "They do?"

Rachel gripped the door handle and the dash nervously. "Yeah, they do… Baby, focus, okay?"

Sure, Rachel was the one distracting her…But Quinn was the one about to wrap her Audi around a pole, or accelerate into the laundromat across the street.

Quinn focused back on parking, and Rachel patted her thigh and gave her a kiss when she finished. Yeah, they were sort of diagonal, and Rachel was sure that at least one of their wheels was up on the curb, and she'd accidentally reclined her seat _all_ the way so it was like a bed and Quinn was laughing at her for it, but they hadn't rammed anybody, or blown through any store windows.

So, success.

~oooooooooo~

Butter and George were gradually losing weight, but they still never failed to knock the wind out of Rachel when they launched themselves onto her stomach every morning. This morning, she just rolled them off to the side and stiff-armed them until they started wailing for food.

They were the loudest goddamned animals in the world.

Even though Quinn fed them before work, and they were already unbelievably fat. Quinn was probably losing a piece of her soul, not being able to feed them Cap'n Crunch and bacon and whatever other crap Jelly got to enjoy occasionally.

Rachel sat up and stretched. And then she lay back down, hugged Pooh, and Cuddles, and Quinn's _101 Dalmatians_ pillow, and breathed in the gummy bear smell. Until Butter landed on her face and she was forced to stand up.

Staring into her different colored eyes was mildly terrifying. She was like an adorable, fat alien.

She noticed Barnaby sleeping next to Pongo on the floor, which was odd, because Quinn's pillow was his home in the mornings, and Cornelius thumped his tail as she passed him, but he didn't follow. Rachel herded her cats out to the living room, and started her coffee before returning to her room to get dressed.

Barnaby hadn't moved. Cornelius hadn't moved. And Pongo hadn't even opened his eyes.

Oh crap. Oh no.

"Pongo." Rachel said softly, staring at him from the doorway. Barnaby and Cornelius finally stood up and trotted over, circling her feet, but the fluffy, white dog didn't move.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh crap.

Rachel walked over slowly and kneeled down in front of Pongo. Her eyes were burning already, and she buried a hand in the fur on his head and shook him lightly.

"Po." She said loudly. He didn't stir. Rachel sat back on her heels and let out a shaky breath. Her heart felt constricted. She put her face in her hands until Barnaby and Cornelius came over and gave her some loving. What the hell was she supposed to do now? Call Quinn?

Oh God.

Rachel ran her hand through the thick, white fur a few more times, and kissed Pongo's head, and then got up and went out to the living room to call Puck. She took a few deep breaths and blinked away her tears.

"Hey, babe, what's up?" Puck asked brightly. Rachel could hear screaming in the background. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been on the phone with one of her friends when she _couldn't_ hear screaming in the background.

People or animals. Somebody was always outraged.

"Noah." Rachel said quietly.

"Rachel? Is something wrong?"

"Pongo's-he passed away… Can you come and-"

Puck cut her off immediately and the loud noises in the background faded away. "Oh God, Rachel, yeah. Yeah, I'm on my way. Is Quinn okay?"

Rachel shut her eyes and shook her head. "She'll be home for her lunch break in half an hour. I don't-Should I let her see him?"

Puck was silent for a minute. And then he sighed and replied. "Yeah. Yeah, definitely. I mean, he's not a person. He looks the same, right?"

Rachel pictured the white, fluffy body and started crying again. "Yeah." She choked out, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at her eyes with her free hand.

"Hey, I'll be there soon, okay?" Puck said softly.

Rachel nodded and hummed, patting Jelly when she jumped into her lap.

"And think of, uh, what you want to…do with him. Alright?"

"Okay, Noah. Thank you." Rachel sniffled.

"No problem, babe."

When Rachel hung up, she wiped the tears off her cheeks and went to the bathroom to wash her face. She made sure Pongo was…presentable, but really, he just looked like he was sleeping. She gave Barnaby a waffle and Cornelius some Sugar Puffs because they were being good, and she just freaking loved them so much right now.

So, so much. She'd feed them all the junk in the world if they asked.

She didn't know what to do.

And then she heard Quinn come through the front door, carrying a box of chocolate sprinkle donuts and wearing a bright smile that faded as soon as she saw Rachel's face in the kitchen.

"Rachel, what's wrong? What happened?" Quinn asked softly, dropping her donuts on the counter and rushing to give Rachel a hug. She lifted her off the ground and swayed side to side, and Rachel had to smile.

It was exactly what she needed.

Rachel waited till she was on the ground again and had Quinn's eyes locked on her own before saying anything.

"It's Po, baby." She said quietly.

Three words, and Rachel could tell that Quinn understood. There was nothing else the phrase could possibly mean. Quinn searched her eyes for a minute, and Rachel watched Quinn's hazel ones fill with tears. Then Quinn stepped back and looked around the apartment anxiously, mouth half-open like she wanted to call his name. When she looked confusedly back at Rachel, Rachel took her hand gently and guided her into the bedroom.

Quinn whined a little bit when she saw Pongo, but she stayed composed and gripped Rachel's hand tighter, and sat cross-legged in front of him, slowly reaching out to run her hands through his fur. Rachel sat next to her. Quinn wasn't saying anything, or making any noise at all, but Rachel wiped away the tears that started to stream steadily down her face.

She heard Puck come through the front door, so she got up and kissed Quinn's head sweetly and went to greet him. He looked somber. Probably the most serious Rachel had ever seen him, and he'd brought Santana, Brittany, and Kurt along.

Brittany was crying. Kurt had flowers.

They'd only met Pongo twice.

"Where do you want to bury him, baby?" Rachel asked Quinn quietly once everybody had given her a hug, and they were standing alone in the kitchen with a bag of gummy worms. Puck had wrapped Pongo up in his fuzzy blanket and carried him down to his truck.

Santana was looking up places where they could legally bury a body. Rachel was surprised she didn't already know.

And she was extremely grateful that Santana didn't bring up her anatomy class.

"Somewhere…open. Out-out of the city." Quinn swallowed and sniffled, and Rachel reached up and ran her hand through blonde hair soothingly, giving Quinn the yellow half of the gummy worm she'd just eaten.

Kurt came up behind Quinn and put a gentle hand on her shoulder until she turned and looked at him. He smiled sadly.

"Blaine's family has a place in New Jersey. They have three acres. There are lots of flowers and bees, and his mom already said it would be okay…I mean, it's two hours away, but…" Kurt shrugged and looked helplessly into those hazel eyes.

"Are there lots of trees?" Quinn asked. Kurt nodded.

Quinn sighed and looked at Rachel. She reached her hand up to wipe the old tear tracks off Rachel's face. Rachel tapped her on the nose, and Quinn smiled slightly.

"Okay."

The property was actually very nice. It wasn't a big open field of daisies with a pond, and a rainbow, and unicorns trotting around happily, but it was nice. Quinn said Pongo wouldn't have wanted any sort of extravagance.

He was a simple dog.

He was a dog.

Quinn sat in the grass with Rachel as Puck and Blaine dug a hole under a tree, and she stayed sitting as they placed Pongo in and filled it up. She was quiet, just staring at the hole and gripping Rachel's hand tightly.

"Do you want to say something, bear?" Rachel asked, whispering it in Quinn's ear.

Quinn shook her head quickly. She looked up when Brittany came over and crouched down in front of them, taking Quinn's free hand gently.

"Hey, Quinn, can I say some things about Po? I know…I only met him twice, but I really liked him."

Quinn looked into Brittany's clear blue eyes for a moment and nodded slowly. Brittany smiled and stood up, giving Quinn's hand to Santana to hold.

Brittany cleared her throat.

"Pongo looked like a snowman."

Well. It was a wonderful starting line, and it made Quinn chuckle, so Rachel smiled.

"He was a happy snowman. These last few weeks were probably awesome for him. I mean, he got to sleep all day in a warm apartment with those two doggies and a gaggle of cats." Brittany gestured to Barnaby and Cornelius, who were tied to a tree and about to pull it down in their excitement at hearing their names.

"And he got fed gummy worms and chicken nuggets."

Rachel turned to Quinn. She had not been aware of that. Gummy worms were sacred. For Quinn only. And Rachel by extension. Even Barnesy and Seal didn't get any. Quinn flushed and smiled when Rachel nudged her in the ribs.

"He couldn't walk very well, but he was awesome at rolling over. Totally awesome. Like, I tried to teach Flappy some tricks but he got angry and-"

"Britt. Britt, move on." Santana interrupted, waving her hand around and squeezing Quinn's hand apologetically. Quinn just smiled.

"Oh, um…Pongo the snowman… you will never be forgotten." Brittany bowed and arranged some bright flowers over the small mound, next to the rock Blaine had found and inscribed with "Po."

Hopefully the next occupants of this house wouldn't fall under the impression that there was a Teletubby buried in their backyard.

Rachel gave Quinn another hug and they brushed the grass off of each other when they stood up.

"He'll like it here." Quinn said with a small smile, pulling Rachel into her side and kissing her head.

Rachel nodded. She could see all the flowers and the bees Kurt had mentioned. And then she realized they were bees, and she shrieked and pulled Quinn's arm around her. Barnaby had been stung on the nose once, and it had swollen up like a clown.

At least Rachel could make Quinn laugh.

Barnaby was the first one back in the truck. Cornelius lay on the mound until everybody was loaded and Rachel had to call his name a few times.

Quinn made sure that no bees had followed them into the car. They liked to stealthily board and lie in wait until you're going eighty on the highway, when a freak-out would be fatal. It was a cunning plan. Rachel admired it.

Quinn finished her check by giving Rachel a kiss, and then looked out the window, twirling Pongo's collar around in her hands.

"He's probably a cloud now." Quinn said with a smile after several minutes of quiet, not taking her eyes off the sky.

Rachel leaned into Quinn's side and nodded.

Of course he would be a cloud. Their big, white ball of fluff.

~oooooooooo~

"Polar bears can swim for sixty miles without resting." Quinn stated randomly, eyes bright as Rachel led her through the gates of the Bronx Zoo the next day.

Rachel smiled. "Can they?"

Quinn nodded excitedly and grabbed a map. She furrowed her brows as she studied it for a minute, and then pointed hopefully at the lions. Rachel grinned and tweaked her ear.

"Wherever you want, Quinn. These are your future patients."

Probably not these exact ones, but, whatever. Some kind of zoo animals.

Quinn froze like she was just realizing that. She looked down at the map and then at Rachel. Rachel raised her eyebrows.

She didn't want to spend all day in this zoo. Quinn needed a little cheering up, and Rachel felt the need to stroll around in uncomfortable boots for six hours, so she brought them here on a whim, and because Cornelius had started howling like the loneliest creature in the world.

It made Quinn sad. It made Rachel sad. It made the neighbors outraged.

Plus, Rachel came here to see the seventeen inch long giraffe tongue.

Quinn spontaneously leaned down and kissed Rachel, and then pulled back and spun on her heel with Rachel's arm in her hand. Alrighty, then. They were visiting the lions.

"And elephants can't jump." Quinn stated like she was finishing a thought, when really it came out of the fucking blue, while Rachel was eyeing some tigers and wondering if she'd be able to ride one if they were ever domesticated.

Yeah, bitch, I'm riding a tiger. Problem?

And then Rachel started trying to picture an elephant with all four feet off the ground. She narrowed her eyes at Quinn, who was running her hand along the enclosure fence and touching every post as they walked by.

"I don't believe that." Rachel said, shaking her head.

Of course she believed it. It was Quinn. Which is why she loved riling her up. Her girlfriend was very defensive about her animal facts. Maybe even a little egomaniacal. She knew _everything_.

Quinn stopped and spun around so that she was facing Rachel as they reached the lion enclosure. She stared into Rachel's serious eyes for a moment.

"You don't believe me?" she whispered.

Rachel bit her tongue and shook her head. "Nope."

She could see Quinn's fingers getting fidgety already. Eyes darting around, jaw working up and down.

"I-they're-they're the only animals that can't jump. They have all the same bones and everything, but they're the largest animals in the world that have knees. And you can-you can-there's-"

Rachel tapped Quinn's lips and managed to contain her smile. Quinn took a breath.

God. She was like an excitable puppy.

"You can lead a cow upstairs, but you won't be able to get it back down."

Wait, what? Had Rachel blacked out on a whole segment of their conversation? Was that some kind of life lesson?

Quinn continued obliviously. "For elephants, it's their body size. For cows, it's the construction of their legs. You know, joints, bones. Plus, laziness. Like, they probably could if they wanted. I think if a cow was upstairs in a burning house, it would be able to make its way back down without jumping from the second story."

Holy mother of God, what the fuck was Quinn talking about? Cows jumping out of burning buildings? Rachel just stared and blinked. She sort of remembered Quinn saying that elephants can't jump. But that was it. After that, she was lost.

Like a cow stranded on the second floor.

Who the hell would lead a cow upstairs?

"So, you believe me, right?" Quinn asked, sparkly hazel eyes boring into Rachel's soul.

Well. Rachel wasn't sure what to believe now. She shook her head and chuckled. "No."

Quinn's face fell and she shook her hair out exasperatedly. She sighed loudly. Exaggeratedly. It was a Rachel sigh. Rachel was proud. She smiled as Quinn's ears turned red.

"Rachel." Quinn whined.

Rachel laughed and ruffled Quinn's hair, tapping her nose when she ducked, because she knew exactly how Quinn liked to squirm away. She grabbed Quinn's arm and pulled her towards the lion pen.

"You're ridiculous, bear." Rachel remarked with a smile.

Quinn wasn't listening. She had moved on. To bigger and better things…Like lions. Quinn watched the lions sleep for half an hour before bounding off with Rachel in tow to see the zebras and giraffes. Rachel got a good look at a giraffe tongue as it provocatively stripped the leaves from a branch.

Very provocatively.

It was like it was teasing the other giraffes. Rachel winked at him. Yeah, she knew what he was doing. Quinn stared at Rachel, and then turned and walked away in the direction of the polar bears.

She really shouldn't be surprised that Rachel was winking at African ungulates.

Quinn got quiet as soon as she saw the polar bears. Her cheeks puffed out like they did when she was sad, and she plopped down on one of the benches to watch them eat carrots.

Were there carrots in the Arctic? Rachel didn't think so.

She sat down on the bench, repressing a relieved sigh at not having to stand in those damn boots that she just _kept wearing_ to these zoos, and hugged one of Quinn's arms to her.

"What are you thinking?" Rachel asked, tapping Quinn's temple lightly. Rachel was prepared for a response like "if a bear fought a shark in outer space, who would win?" Or "I miss Pongo."

Rachel was still sort of fixed on cows in burning buildings. Cows in fire drills. Cows stopping, dropping, and rolling.

Oh God.

"Am I a good friend?" Quinn asked quietly instead, eyes fixed on the bears.

Rachel looked at her with surprise. "Quinn, you're my _best _friend."

Quinn turned to Rachel, eyes focused and vulnerable. "I mean…Are-San and Britt and Puck and Kurt are my friends, right?"

Rachel strained to hear and narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Of course they are. They love you."

Quinn bit her lip. "But…Am I a good friend to them? I-I don't-I haven't had…friends before, and they were just so nice yesterday, and-and I want…"

Quinn scrunched up her face. Rachel watched her for a moment, smiling when Quinn met her eyes again.

"Quinn, you're the best kind of friend." Rachel said slowly. "You're honest and helpful and loyal and lovable, and you don't bring dead frogs into people's apartments and put them on kitchen counters that somebody eats Froot Loops off of, and then talk about serial killers at dinner."

Quinn laughed and Rachel nudged their shoulders together. Rachel wouldn't trade her other friends for the world, but yeah, she could definitely do with a remote to switch off some of their behavior.

A shock collar came to mind.

"You make cookies for all of them." Rachel continued, poking Quinn in the thigh. "You even make their favorite kinds. You made oatmeal raisin for Kurt even though you hate it. _And_, Puck now drinks more chocolate milk than beer. So, good job there, right? They know you love them, Quinn."

Quinn flushed and leaned her forehead against Rachel's shoulder.

"Thank you."

Rachel smiled. "Love you."

Quinn didn't say anything. Rachel couldn't see her face, so she moved her shoulder around to get Quinn to move her head. Quinn held on, pressing more forcefully and inadvertently slobbering on Rachel's sleeve.

"Say it, bear." Rachel demanded with a grin. She could see half of Quinn's lips quirked up, but that was it.

"Quinn, we'll leave right now, and I'll never come back here with you if you don't say it."

Pssht. Yeah right.

Quinn shook her head into Rachel's shoulder. "No, thank you."

Rachel huffed and wrapped an arm around Quinn's head, kissing the blonde mess on top. Of course she made no move to actually "leave right now."

Quinn lolled her head to the side so she could look up at Rachel. She stared at her for a couple of seconds and Rachel raised her eyebrows. She knew what was coming. She waited for it.

"Love you too. Love you so much." Quinn whispered.

Rachel tapped Quinn's nose with a grateful smile.

See. That wasn't so hard. It had to be the easiest thing in the world.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Hello! Classes resume tomorrow so it might be a few extra days between updates. We'll see. Thank you for sticking with this story and for all your input!

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 23: You Got a Fire and It's Burning in the Rain**

Rachel was making chocolate chip pancakes for Quinn on her first day of college classes when she heard a crash come from the direction of their bedroom. And then complete silence for a moment. Rachel froze. She counted five animals all lying on the kitchen floor waiting for food, like rogue chocolate chips, so it wasn't them.

But she wasn't too alarmed. Things crashed in her apartment all the time. Quinn was extremely clumsy.

And then Quinn came thundering out of the hallway and into the living room wearing nothing but a towel, hair sudsy and wet. Rachel stared at her and blinked, spatula in hand.

Um. What.

She tried not to start laughing in case Quinn was legitimately upset about something. Like a spaceship crashing into the bathroom. A murderer climbing through the fire escape.

"Rachel, there's a spider in the bathtub." Quinn stage-whispered anxiously, eyes wide, and clutching the towel tighter around her body.

Oh, well then. It _was_ something to be upset about.

Did she think the spider could hear her? Definitely. Rachel knew it was listening and planning its next attack. Its high-speed-shoot-out-from-under-the-shampoo-bottle attack.

Rachel didn't say anything for a minute. She seemed to get lost in Quinn's soapy body. Her legs. Her bare shoulders. All of it _glistening_. God. Rachel swallowed and then returned to reality when her pancake caught fire.

She tossed it away quickly. Barnaby stuck his face in the trash can and ate it from there.

"Quinn, you're getting water everywhere." Rachel remarked, watching Butter and George peel themselves off the kitchen floor to play with the suds falling from Quinn's hair. "And bubbles. Do you use child shampoo, or-"

"Rachel." Quinn interrupted, glaring at Rachel seriously. This was a pressing matter. Do something about that fucking spider, woman. It was still hard for Rachel to take her seriously. Quinn had molded her hair into soapy spikes.

"What do you want me to do, baby?" Rachel asked, holding up her spatula helplessly and gesturing to the mess in the kitchen. She was not a spider person. If she ever found one before…well, she would just avoid that room for a week or two.

"Set it free!" Quinn exclaimed, stepping into the kitchen so she could make the tiles all slippery as well.

Rachel softened her grin. Of course it would be _set it free_, instead of _kill it_. She turned to Quinn and brushed the blonde hair down so it looked less "death metal", and then dried her hand on Quinn's towel, purposely pulling it away so that she could see more of those legs.

"Why can't _you_?" Rachel asked, dragging her eyes back up to Quinn's, and watching Quinn's face grow more frantic.

"They-I don't-I don't like spiders…" Quinn puffed out her cheeks. " Help me, please."

Well, awww. That had to be cheating. Rachel smiled, and just looked at her for a moment. "Are you excited, bear?"

Quinn looked confused for a second, and then flushed and looked down at her feet. She nodded and leaned back against the counter.

Rachel poked her in the stomach and ducked to catch her eye. "I can't hear you."

Quinn bit her lip and smiled, shaking her hair out so the suds landed on Rachel. "Mmhmm."

Rachel bit her tongue and shook her head. "I still can't hear you."

"I'm excited." Quinn said with a grin. She stepped forward with open arms, ready to wrap Rachel in a soapy hug. "And will you please help me?"

Rachel palmed Quinn's chest to keep her at arm's length, and then puffed herself up and nodded. "Have some pancakes, bear. I'll handle the spider."

God, yeah right. Big words for a tiny person. She'd rather just give the spider the bathroom and be done with it.

"But you won't kill it, right?" Quinn said quickly as Rachel turned to go. She slipped in Quinn's puddle, seizing the fridge door for support.

Rachel could make no promises. Except that she probably would end up killing it. Jelly chose that moment to slip and fall in the sink full of water, letting out a screech of surprise, so Rachel was saved from answering. She grabbed an aluminum dog bowl and a big piece of yellow construction paper, and headed to the master bathroom.

The construction paper had a giant elephant drawing on it. Rachel asked no questions. She knew the answers. Quinn drew elephants.

Rachel stepped through the bathroom doorway and looked around cautiously. She noticed that the shower curtain had been pulled down. Again. Probably in Quinn's panic.

And-_Jesus Christ_ the spider was a giant. Not just huge, but solidly built. Thick legs and all. Did spiders have muscles? It looked like it had muscles.

And it was _watching_ her.

God. Fuck the construction paper. Rachel needed a shotgun.

She could hear Quinn happily conversing in the kitchen with the animals. Her melodic voice drifted as she laughed at something they did. Or said. She was like Cinderella. She probably had feral deer and cute rodents dress her in the morning.

Fucking focus, Rachel. This is exactly what the spider wants.

Rachel took a step forward and the spider scuttled towards the collapsed shower curtain. Oh God. If he hid in there, there was no getting rid of him. They'd have to find a new apartment.

New strategy.

Rachel held her breath, because there was always that chance that the spider could go inside her mouth, and lunged forward silently screaming in terror, managing to plant the bowl right over the spider, and freezing with her hand on top of it.

She sat still for a moment, making sure nothing was crawling on her. Or in her mouth. She panicked a little bit when her hair fell out of place and tickled her neck.

Oh my fucking God there's more!

Alright, contain yourself.

Rachel slid the paper under the bowl, and then lifted the whole thing up, holding it away from her like it was a bomb. It basically was. It held a volatile beast.

She made her way slowly back out to the living room, and then almost had a heart attack, nearly setting the beast free, when she saw Quinn sitting at the breakfast bar tipping a bag of chocolate chips into her mouth. Completely naked.

Well, waist up because the towel was still draped over her, but whatever. Rachel shouldn't be handling arachnids in this state of mind. She took a deep breath, freezing when Quinn turned and noticed her.

Quinn's face lit up. "You got it! Let me get dressed and we can go down and set it free."

Set what free?

Rachel nodded slowly. She wanted to kiss Quinn, or step in her path, or touch her, or something, but sudden movements would set the spider off, and she just couldn't risk it. And then she looked at Quinn again.

Pssht, fuck that. She risked it.

"You look _lovely_, Quinn." Rachel said quietly, stepping into Quinn's path, spider held out to the side. It was actually a pretty awkward position.

Oh yeah, I'm just gonna seduce you with this aluminum dog bowl, neon elephant drawing, and gigantic fucking spider suspended in my free hand.

Still, Rachel pressed herself closer and kissed Quinn at the base of her neck. Quinn put both her hands on top of Rachel's head and pushed back, so that Rachel's head tilted to look up at her. Quinn was doing that shy, close-mouthed smiling thing that made Rachel smile too.

"We have to set the spider free." Quinn coaxed quietly, prying Rachel off of her and grinning at the water spots on Rachel's shirt.

Rachel sighed. They probably didn't have time for this anyway. Class started in an hour. She took a step back and motioned for Quinn to go and get dressed.

They took the bowl downstairs and outside, and then down a block because they never wanted to see that spider again, and Rachel was convinced it would be able to smell its way home. Rachel set the bowl down in some grass just off the sidewalk, and jumped away so that the beast couldn't leap out and get her.

She held Quinn's hand like they were waiting for a dragon to emerge.

Nothing came out. Absolutely nothing. There was not a spider in the bowl, and there had never been a spider in the bowl.

She hadn't caught it. It was still loose.

Well, then. Quinn was wearing the exact same expression as Rachel. Horror. Shock. They turned to each other and nodded.

Master bathroom was off limits for a couple weeks.

~oooooooooo~

The campus was less crowded than it would be for the fall or spring semester, which Quinn was probably happy about. Rachel escorted her to the lecture hall where the accelerated general chemistry course was being held, Barnaby and Cornelius at her side.

It was a dog-friendly campus, and Quinn was damn well taking advantage of it.

"You have your notebook?" Rachel checked, standing with Quinn just outside the building. She pulled the Yankees cap further down on her head, thinking the college students would be pretty likely to recognize her.

They should. She was the critically acclaimed star of the Broadway revival of _Funny Girl_. Everybody should recognize her.

Quinn looked in her bag and nodded. She gripped the strap tightly with one hand, letting the other tap against her thigh. Rachel stepped closer and stilled it with her own hand.

"Pens?" Rachel asked, looking up at Quinn's face.

Quinn checked and nodded again. Her eyes darted around over Rachel's shoulder.

"Student ID?"

Nod.

"Calculator?"

Nod.

"Bear." Rachel tapped Quinn's lips and made sure Quinn made eye contact. "Words, please."

Quinn nodded, lips quirked up.

Rachel shook her head fondly. "We'll be out here exploring when you're done, okay?"

Or wandering around aimlessly and worrying about Quinn. Barnaby and Cornelius would be her guide dogs.

So Quinn would probably find them at the bottom of a lake in Central Park.

Quinn leaned down and kissed Rachel, squeezing Rachel's hand and holding her cheek. "Love you." She said when she pulled back, watching Rachel lick her lips.

Rachel grinned. "She speaks." She said quietly. "Love you too, bear."

Quinn grinned. "Love you so much."

Quinn squeezed Rachel's hands one more time before turning and entering the building. Rachel watched her go, and then sighed and looked down at the dogs staring dumbly up at her, mouths open and tongues lolling around. She knew what they were saying.

Pull yourself together. She'll only be gone for fifty fucking minutes. Plus waffles. Sugar Puffs.

Rachel walked in the direction of Washington Square Park so that she could do a few loops and soak up the summer sun before it got unbearably hot. She jumped a few inches off the ground when her phone vibrated, and she hurriedly pulled it out, almost getting flattened by a bus, to see if Quinn needed anything.

Like rescuing. Or a cupcake.

**Quinn**: **The seats are really comfortable.**

Rachel snorted.

**Rachel: Good thing. I was worried.**

**Quinn: :D**

**Quinn: Did you know porcupines float in water?**

No. Rachel had not known that, and she didn't want to accidentally drown a porcupine testing it out. Where could she even get one? God, catching a wild porcupine in the woods probably wouldn't go well.

**Rachel:** **You can tell me about it later, baby. Focus, okay?**

**Quinn: Okay. Professor's here. .**

Rachel laughed again.

**Rachel:** **Have fun. Xoxo ;D**

She went back to wandering around the park, smiling at the people who stopped to tell her how adorable her dogs were. Barnaby and Cornelius would act like angels with these people, and then leap on the hot dog man two minutes later.

Rachel didn't receive any more texts, which was probably good, and she made her way back to the chem building right before Quinn's class was supposed to get out. Students came streaming out of the doors, and Rachel smiled when she caught sight of that messy blonde head.

Quinn came striding towards her, grinning happily, and she picked Rachel up and spun her around. Rachel laughed, now tangled in the dog leashes. Quinn took them off of her eagerly, giving both the dogs hugs as well.

"So, it went well?" Rachel asked, leaning into Quinn's side as they started walking to get lunch.

Quinn swung their hands between them, and then skipped for a couple steps, dragging Rachel along beside her. She swerved to avoid the sidewalk cracks.

"Rachel, I'm going to be a vet!"

Rachel chuckled. "I know, baby."

"I did-I mean-I knew-I knew-" Quinn paused when Rachel poked her ribs, and took a deep breath. "I knew everything the-the professor was talking about. And it wasn't really crowded. Or loud. And these two girls talked to me, and they were _nice_."

Rachel listened to Quinn talk about everything the professor had taught them that day. Yeah, it was endless chemistry that Rachel just didn't understand, but it was Quinn's happy voice delivering it.

So she couldn't get enough.

~oooooooooo~

Grocery shopping with Quinn was like playing a giant game full of rules and negotiations, trickery and distraction. Deceit. Blackmail. Love. Bribery. But really, everything with Quinn was like playing a giant game.

Rachel put a box of Honey Bunches of Oats in the cart and turned to Quinn. "Cocoa Puffs or Sugar Puffs, Quinn?"

Quinn nodded seriously and reached for both. Rachel rolled her eyes and grabbed Quinn by the back pocket of her jeans. Quinn spun around in surprise.

"Not both. Pick one. And I'll let you pick the flavor of the ice cream we get later."

Quinn grinned down at Rachel. "You'd let me pick anyway."

God. True. Too fucking true.

Rachel just stared at her, and Quinn smiled and leaned down to kiss her forehead. She then grabbed the Sugar Puffs. The family size box, which was gigantic. Rachel let it go. She had to focus on distracting Quinn so she wouldn't see the bags of marshmallows situated at the end of the aisle.

"Have you started looking for a vet to shadow, Quinn?"

Quinn gently pushed Rachel aside so that she could push the cart. And ride the cart. Right into all the displays and over Rachel's feet. She nodded slightly, and Rachel watched her.

"Yeah? So…you haven't found one yet?"

Quinn swallowed. They glided right by the marshmallows. Rachel was victorious.

"I've…found one. Their website says-says they're open to pre-vet students, and I just have to go see them in person."

Ahh. New people. Talking to them. _Working_ with them. Rachel got it. She reached up and ruffled Quinn's hair, and then stopped and went back down the aisle to grab some marshmallows.

"You'll be good, bear. They'll love you." Rachel stated, smiling at Quinn, who looked delighted at the new addition to their cart.

"When are you going to go talk to them?"

Quinn thought for a moment. "Um, tomorrow? Between classes, I guess. I don't-Hey! Can we get Sunny Delight?"

Rachel could see that Quinn's attention was elsewhere, so she shooed her away to fetch her Sunny D, some _actual_ dog food, dish soap, and bagels. Quinn came back with donuts, dog food, dog toys, a new collar for Barnaby, Sunny D, and four packages of peanut butter cookie dough.

And a bag of Hershey's Kisses.

"I'll share my kisses with you." Quinn coaxed.

God. It was so difficult. Rachel had to laugh.

After arriving back home, they were halfway through putting the groceries away when there was a knock at the door. And then another knock. And then impatient banging.

Rachel hurried to open it and was not surprised to see Brittany and Santana on the other side. Brittany had something small and fluffy in her hands. Oh my God, Rachel hoped it wasn't Flappy. Santana was the one disturbing the neighbors. They both strolled right past her into the living room like they lived there.

"Okay, Britt and I have a date tonight, so we're not gonna drag this out, and oh my God, Quinn, that cat has the fattest face I've ever seen." Santana proclaimed, getting distracted by Butter, who was trying to climb up her leg.

Rachel sort of agreed. Plus, Butter's different colored eyes were mildly terrifying.

Quinn frowned. "She's losing weight. I don't think she likes exercising."

Rachel snorted. No. This cat was a fucking acrobat. It loved hurling its blobby body off of high surfaces, chasing George, attacking Cornelius, swinging from the curtains and light fixtures. Butter was not aware she was too fat to do these things effectively. Without disaster.

She loved disaster. George was like her sidekick.

"The guy who lives in the apartment above us, who we said looks like an albino George Clooney and is probably a serial killer, remember him?" Santana asked.

Rachel nodded, opening one of Quinn's Fruit Roll-Ups and then tossing the wrapper at her. All of her friends' neighbors were apparently serial killers, but she'd never forget the albino George Clooney.

"Yeah, well, his loud ass dog had puppies, even louder ass puppies, so he was giving them away." Santana gestured to whatever was in Brittany's arms, and Quinn moved quickly forward to see. "And he said if he didn't find homes for all of them, he'd take them to the shelter. Not the no-kill one."

Quinn's face fell. Rachel frowned.

"But this was the only one left." Brittany piped up excitedly. "And he looks just like snowman Po, so…"

Oh God.

Another one.

Quinn's eyes widened and she took the puppy out of Brittany's hands.

It was a fluffy white snowball. Rachel couldn't even see if it had eyes.

Santana watched them with a small smile. "He's nine weeks. You'll have to get his shots, and he's a loud little fucker, but he was the runt, so…We thought blondie would like him. He reminds us of her."

Rachel wasn't sure she liked her girlfriend being referred to as a runt. Santana smirked when Rachel glared at her.

Quinn buried her face in the puppy's fur and then hugged him to her body. She looked at Santana and Brittany with shiny hazel eyes. Brittany bounded forward automatically for a hug, and Quinn met Rachel's eyes over her shoulder.

Rachel rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and smiled. She nodded. "No" wasn't an option. It never was.

Quinn stepped up to Santana next. Slowly. Cautiously. Santana sighed and gestured for her to "hurry the fuck up." Quinn grinned and hugged her tightly, the new puppy pressed between them. He started yelping and whining and Rachel groaned.

So it's one of _those_ dogs. Maybe it could stop Cornelius's lonely howling. They could cancel each other out. Maybe get so loud that they just resort to silence.

"Okay, we're going. Take care of him, Q." Santana said, stepping towards the door and shaking the hug off her body. Brittany kissed the puppy in Quinn's arms and followed. Rachel shut the door behind them.

Quinn was already lying on the couch with the puppy on her stomach, whining its little heart out. Barnaby was trying to claw his way on top of Quinn's legs, and Cornelius sat right under the coffee table watching them.

Butter was climbing up the curtains. Again.

Rachel rolled herself over the back of the couch so that she landed between it and Quinn, or halfway on top of Quinn. No worries, the puppy was safe.

"Do you want to call him Pongo?" Rachel asked, scratching his nose to see if it would shut him up. It did.

Oh my God, Rachel had a gift.

Quinn smiled and shook her head so that it knocked against Rachel's. She started scratching the other side of the puppy's nose. He shut his eyes and rolled into the dip between Quinn and Rachel.

"Can we call him Cloud?" Quinn asked softly, turning her head so her nose was pressed into Rachel's cheek. Rachel turned her head too so their noses brushed together. She went cross-eyed for a moment, trying to make eye contact, and Quinn chuckled.

Rachel rolled onto her side and swung a leg over both of Quinn's legs, making sure the puppy didn't fall through the cracks. Barnaby was halfway on the couch sniffing him out.

"I think…that's a perfect name, Quinn. He looks like a Cloud." Rachel agreed quietly, resting her head on Quinn's shoulder and shifting around when Cornelius flung himself up onto the couch as well. Barnaby managed to get his back legs up and they both settled on the tangle of legs at the other end of the couch.

By all means, everybody join in.

They all lay quietly for a minute, listening to five bodies breathe.

"What do you think about releasing a statement to the press that we're together, Quinn?"

Quinn blinked. Her mouth opened up a little and she was silent for a moment. Then she smiled slightly. "Mm, yes." She said resolutely, and then stuck her tongue out. "Is my tongue blue?"

Of course it was. Quinn's tongue was very rarely its natural color. Rachel could smell the Fruit Roll-Up.

She rolled her eyes, and then grabbed a couch cushion and placed it over Quinn's face. She could hear Quinn whining from underneath it. Rachel pulled it back. She didn't want to accidentally asphyxiate her girlfriend.

She raised her eyebrows at Quinn's pouty expression.

"You didn't answer me properly."

Quinn puffed out her cheeks, eyes bright and playful.. "You didn't answer my question either."

"Bear, your tongue is always blue. You don't need to keep asking. You should ask me when it's normal colored."

Quinn pursed her lips thoughtfully and nodded. She pulled the pillow back over her face and Rachel smiled. She tried to peek under it to see Quinn's face, but Quinn just held it tighter.

"Quinn, answer my question. What if we do an interview, or release a statement or something? It would quell some curiosity. Maybe get some of the paparazzi off my back after the shows."

Rachel heard some kind of muffled moaning response from under the pillow, and she tried to move it again, but Quinn wouldn't budge.

"Bear, let me see your face." Rachel whined. She could see Quinn's chest shaking from laughter. Or the desperate need for oxygen. She poked her in the ribs. She didn't want to start a tickle war because Quinn would end up kicking Cloud in the face and breaking their coffee table again.

"I want to tell the world you're my girlfriend." Rachel said quietly, right next to where she knew Quinn's ear was. She smiled when Quinn stilled. Hopefully she was still breathing.

Quinn moved the pillow off her face, which was now bright red, and looked at Rachel. Rachel couldn't even see her eyes because of the mess of her hair. She brushed it to the side.

Spikes wouldn't work now that it was dry. Unfortunately.

"Really?" Quinn asked with wide eyes.

Rachel laughed. "Of course."

"Can I tell people I'm the one who asked you out, and that I make you cookies, so they'll like me?" Quinn's asked hopefully. Her eyes were bright, and Rachel put a cool hand on one of her flushed cheeks.

God, she loved this girl. This sweetheart.

"Mm, yes. You can tell them that. But they'll love you anyway, bear. We'll figure it out."

Quinn nodded slowly, and then smiled and rolled so that she had Rachel pinned against the back of the couch.

"Do you wanna play a game?"

Oh my God.

Of course Rachel wanted to play a game.

Quinn kissed both of Rachel's cheeks when she nodded, ignoring the clatter that came from Butter ripping the curtain rod down for the hundredth time. They'd get Puck to fix it. Then she rolled over so her face was pressed into the couch and started counting down from fifty.

Oh. It's fucking hide and seek.

Rachel laughed and rolled over Quinn to stand up. She grabbed Cloud and buried Quinn in pillows before wandering off to find somewhere to hide.

She wondered if there was a way to sexualize hide and seek.

Pssht. Rachel dropped Cloud off with Jelly in her cat bed and took her top off before climbing into the closet.

She would find a way. She loved Quinn's games.


	24. Chapter 24

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 24: Does Anybody Know Where February Went?**

Cloud was Quinn in dog form. Rachel was sure of this. She sat on the couch waiting for her publicist to call, and watched him watch the TV. He was sitting on Quinn's lap, wearing Quinn's facial expression, and neither he nor Quinn noticed Rachel staring at them.

Picking them apart. God, it was so amusing.

They had the same bright eyes. Small smile. Fluffy hair. Plus an apparent love for Blue's Clues, which Rachel had put on because she hadn't seen it in six years, and because Quinn told her Blue was a girl and it was blowing her mind.

Cloud liked to watch people. He'd stopped his endless whining and yapping once he'd settled in, and turned into a quiet little puppy. Instead of leaping onto Quinn and Rachel in bed and mauling their faces like the other animals, Cloud would paw at their hands and then sit back and wait for some loving.

He loved playing "bowling ball" with Quinn in the living room, a game Quinn had invented of course. It basically involved repeatedly knocking Cloud down, and then him getting up and frolicking happily around some more.

It was not as violent as it seemed like it would be. Though the last time they'd played, Quinn had added plastic bottles to act as bowling pins, and then slammed her head into the wall when she tried to somersault through them.

Rachel turned back to the TV and found Steve searching for a clue. She knew it would take him ten minutes to find even though it was right on the table. Bright blue and totally visible. Right on the fucking table. Just look at the table, man. Not the goddamned floor. The table.

Rachel had forgotten how frustrating Blue's Clues was. Plus Dora the Explorer and her little psychotic mind games.

Maybe they weren't made for twenty-four year olds.

Quinn sang along to the start of a new episode as Rachel's phone rang. She twisted to answer it, keeping Quinn's feet in her lap and playing with her toes.

"Are you sure about this, Quinn?" Rachel checked, finger hovering over the answer button.

Quinn smiled and nudged Rachel in the stomach with her foot. "Yes. Completely. It'll be good, Rachel."

Alrighty then. Rachel nodded and answered the call.

"Hey, Tina."

George hurled himself up onto the coffee table and sat staring into Rachel's soul with his piercing yellow eyes so that she couldn't see the TV. She moved her head around and listened to Tina talk.

"Hi, Rach. Look, I don't have a lot of time, but I just need to clarify some things with you."

Rachel hummed. She stuck her leg out to try to knock George off, but her toes just barely brushed his fur. He was a cunning little fatso.

"Is Quinn there? Are you in bed? Oh God, Rachel, just call me-"

"What? No!" Rachel stopped trying to roll George off the table. "Talk to me. What is it?"

Tina was silent for a moment. Quinn laughed loudly at something Blue did-which, like, really? Rachel rolled her eyes. Tina seemed to deem it safe to carry on this conversation.

"Okay, so, for the statement, how much do you want to reveal?"

Rachel thought for a moment. Quinn didn't exactly have a press-friendly background, so they'd agreed that only her name and confirmation that they were dating would be sufficient.

"I'm not exactly, you know, a Hollywood A-lister, right, so I think just Quinn's name is enough." Rachel could see Quinn watching her out of the corner of her eye. She tickled Quinn's feet reassuringly.

"If anybody cares enough to dig further, well…We have nothing to be ashamed of."

Except for the fact that they just ate twenty-four cookies between them. Nobody had to know.

"And Quinn's prepared for this? If-"

"_Here's the mail, it never fails, it makes me want to wag my tail, when it comes I want to-"_

"Quinn! Stop singing!" Rachel said loudly, biting her tongue at Quinn and Cloud's matching crestfallen expressions. She could hear Tina laughing.

"Yes, Quinn's prepared." Rachel stated, turning to look at the somber George instead of her girlfriend. Quinn put Cloud on the floor and pulled her legs off of Rachel's lap. She started crawling towards Rachel on her hands and knees.

God. Rachel should be annoyed. She really should. Quinn was such a pest. Rachel pushed herself up against the arm rest and ignored the rapidly approaching blonde mess.

"She's proud of us, and she's proud of herself. And I'm proud of her." Rachel told Tina.

Quinn paused and flushed, looking down at her hands. Rachel shook her head fondly. What a nuisance.

"Okay. I'll release it tomorrow, then. Hopefully there won't be any kind of, you know, major reaction."

Rachel nodded absently. Quinn was sitting right up against her now. Like a cat. Staring at the side of Rachel's face.

"And if there is, we'll just take it in stride." Tina continued.

Quinn started nuzzling Rachel's neck and Rachel hummed. She bit her lip to keep herself from moaning into Tina's ear. She didn't want to traumatize the woman. Again. Tina was silent for a minute anyway, and then she sighed exasperatedly, right as Quinn started pawing at Rachel's sweatshirt.

God. She was impossible.

"You're doing it again, aren't you!" Tina exclaimed.

Rachel feigned bewilderment. It was a spectacular feat, because Quinn straddled her at the same time. "What? No. We're not _doing it_."

"Rachel, God. I'm hanging up. Tell Quinn I said hi. The statement will be out tomorrow."

Rachel tossed her phone away. What statement was Tina talking about? Who was Tina?

She grabbed Quinn's ass and indulged her girlfriend.

With an obese gray cat watching, and Blue's Clues playing in the background.

~oooooooooo~

Eight shows a week was exhausting. Plus, dealing with paparazzi and fan questions that had changed from "who is that girl you're always with" to "how long have you known Quinn Fabray" and "is it true you're a cat hoarder," Rachel was dead on her feet this week.

She didn't know what happened. She thought maybe she'd accidentally turned Quinn into a sex addict. They might have to cut back.

Pssht. Yeah right.

Rachel was leaning against the refrigerator, forehead pressed up against it, eyes closed. She had been chopping carrots, because it seemed like somebody should make something healthy in this house, and then forgotten what she'd needed from the fridge.

When she opened her eyes Quinn was sitting at the breakfast bar staring at her. She had a chem book open and a sympathetic look on her face.

"Maybe you should take a couple days off, little bear."

No. Definitely not. The show must go on. With Rachel Berry as its star.

"Mmm, no." Rachel said shortly, pulling open the fridge door and looking inside.

Ah. Yes. Broccoli. Maybe having one meal a week that consisted of only vegetables would cancel out the rest of the crap Quinn ate. Quinn had actually been fixated on carrots since they saw the bear in the Bronx eating them.

Rachel wondered if she should be worried that her girlfriend's role model was a polar bear.

"Quinn! Can you get your damn animals out of the kitchen, please!"

Before Rachel put them in the oven accidentally. Or purposely. Whatever.

Quinn got off her stool and quietly herded Barnaby, Cornelius, Butter, and George back out into the living room, whispering to them that Rachel was only making vegetables and they wouldn't want any of _that_ nonsense. She'd give them Froot Loops later.

Then she sat back down, closed her book, and folded her hands on top of it, watching Rachel chop carrots.

"You're grumpy." Quinn said quietly.

Rachel rolled her eyes, and in the split second when her gaze was on the ceiling, managed to slice her thumb open. She didn't realize it at first. Why was the carrot bleeding?

Oh. Fuck.

Rachel gasped. It was one of those crazy gasps, where she had no idea whether to scream, swear, or cry.

"What's-Oh my God! Rachel!" Quinn shot out of her seat and rounded the bar in half a second. "Shit! Shit!"

Whoa. Simmer down, bear. Rachel almost smiled, but she remembered her hand was gushing blood, and started moaning in pain instead. It wasn't even too painful yet. Just gory. And psychologically a little unnerving.

Like vomit, she was not good with blood. Which actually led to vomit. Which created an endless cycle of revulsion.

Quinn grabbed her wrist, eyes wide and frantic, and Rachel let her examine the cut. It wasn't even that deep. It just went right across her thumb like a cross-section. The kind of cut where if she'd been using a cleaver, her thumb would be gone.

Well, no. If Rachel was using a cleaver she'd manage to chop off _all_ her limbs. She wondered if the animals would eat her? Oh God.

Quinn yanked Rachel's hand over the sink and turned the water on. Watching it go down the drain was like a horror movie. Rachel was about to vomit.

"Stay there." Quinn ordered.

Ooh. Alrighty then.

Quinn ran out of the kitchen and into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a towel and a package of Scooby-Doo Band-Aids. Rachel didn't think a fucking cartoon Band-Aid meant for four-year-olds would help with her severed thumb.

God, she was just bleeding so profusely. Dramatics would be totally excusable.

Quinn took one look at the clean cut and dropped all the stuff in her hands.

"We're going to the hospital." She tried to grab Rachel's shoulders to turn her around, but Rachel stood still and hunched herself over the sink.

She groaned, trying to convey her disagreement with that plan. "Just-just give me a towel."

"Rachel, you-"

Rachel squirmed her shoulders out of Quinn's grasp. "Stop pulling, Quinn. I might be sick. I need the sink."

Quinn whined helplessly and stepped back. She picked up the towel and gently took Rachel's hand, wrapping it snugly and applying pressure while Rachel hovered over the sink.

She was actually halfway _in_ the sink at this point. Her nose almost touched the drain. And then she thought about her hair getting caught in the garbage disposal and what kind of horror movie that shit would create, and she abruptly stood up straight.

Quinn watched her, hazel eyes still filled with concern. And tears.

Really? Seriously? She searched Rachel's face anxiously.

Rachel cleared her throat once she was sure she wasn't going to hurl. "I'm alright, bear."

"Are you sure?" Quinn asked quickly, placing her hand on Rachel's forehead like she was checking her temperature. Like that would tell her anything at all.

Rachel smiled tightly. She could feel the pain now, but the blood was gone, so she didn't feel like she was _dying_ anymore. Watching the life gush out of her.

"Get on my back." Quinn said, turning around and bending over.

God, this happened way too often. Rachel blinked.

"What? Why?"

Quinn crouched down and steadied herself against the cabinet. "I'll carry you to the couch. You're probably light-headed, right? And you feel sick."

She made it sound so obvious. Like, duh, Rachel needed a ride, Quinn would give her a ride.

Rachel chuckled. There were just so many ways for something to go awry if she got on Quinn's back right now. There were multiple knives scattered around the kitchen-which, really? Why had Rachel been using _four_ knives? She was just out of her mind. So tired.

Plus, some charming blood smears on the counter. And on their carrots. Which they would not be eating. There was always the opportunity for Rachel to hit her head on the arch of the entry to the kitchen if she was on Quinn's back, not to mention the animal swarm that had returned and was acting like an obstacle course.

Yeah. They'd both end up in the emergency room if she listened to Quinn.

"I'll walk, bear." Rachel said. She felt a little bit horrible about being short with Quinn when she was chopping those fucking carrots. It was Rachel's own fault. Goddamned dramatic eye-rolls.

Rachel sat on the couch and leaned her head back, closing her eyes and listening to Quinn clean up the mess. Barnaby jumped up next to her and put his head in Rachel's lap.

"Advil?" Quinn asked softly, plopping next to Rachel on the couch and slowly unwrapping the towel from her hand. Rachel laughed. Quinn had also brought Pooh Bear, Cuddles, that giraffe blanket that still hadn't been washed, some coloring books, and gummy bears.

She was totally set.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry." Quinn whispered as she dabbed at the gash with an antiseptic wipe. Rachel hissed and whined, but Quinn held on.

Rachel sighed in relief when she finally let go. Quinn smiled sweetly at her and kissed her cheek. "Good job. Would you like some gummy bears?"

God, of course.

"Quinn, I'm not seven." Rachel said, folding her arms and staring straight ahead. Her head was throbbing. She needed sleep.

Quinn was unfazed. "What if I throw them in your mouth?"

Rachel snorted despite herself. What the fuck?

Quinn smiled when she saw she'd gotten Rachel to laugh. She grabbed the bag of gummy bears and moved around to the other side of the coffee table.

Oh God, another game. Rachel watched her expectantly, eyes blurring a little bit from her headache.

"Open your mouth." Quinn demanded, opening her own like Rachel didn't know what "open your mouth" meant.

Rachel obliged. She didn't know why. She was a little bit out of her mind. Quinn picked out a blue gummy bear and tossed it lightly in the direction of Rachel's head. It went right in her mouth.

Did Quinn practice this? Is this how she spent her free time? It was very probable.

"No more, bear. It's too sweet. It'll make my head worse." Rachel said quietly, seeing that Quinn was prepping more gummy bears.

Quinn shoved a handful in her own mouth instead and sat back down beside Rachel, putting both hands on Rachel's thigh and kissing the side of her head.

"You have a headache?" she asked around her fruity mouthful.

Rachel nodded slowly and leaned her head on Quinn's shoulder.

"You should take a couple days off." Quinn whispered into her ear. "Give that other girl a chance. Then everybody will be super happy when you get back and you'll be even more valuable than before."

Oh yeah. Quinn knew exactly what to say. Appeal to Rachel's ego. Or coerce her using adorable animals.

"I don't want to sit around home all day." Rachel said quietly.

She wouldn't be able to handle it. Knowing that she could be on stage at the moment, but she was choosing not to be. It would destroy her. She'd end up bursting through the theater doors halfway through the show singing some random song from the soundtrack because she couldn't contain herself.

Quinn was quiet for a minute. Rachel almost fell asleep on her shoulder.

"I know where we can go." Quinn offered.

God, no.

"I'm not going to the zoo, Quinn. That takes more energy than Fannie Brice."

Quinn chuckled lightly, and then stopped because Rachel winced when it bounced her head around. "No. I, um, what if-I could-I could show you where I grew up."

Rachel blinked and focused. She looked up at Quinn. "Like, the children's home?"

"No. No, my aunt's house… I'm never going-I don't want to go back to the-back there."

Rachel put her injured hand on Quinn's bouncing leg.

"I would love to see where you grew up, Quinn."

Quinn shook her head out. Rachel smiled and closed her eyes so she wouldn't be blinded by blonde hair. "Lisa won't actually be there, but I have to pick up something she had to sign for NYU. I could…show you my old room. And stuff."

Rachel tilted her face up and kissed Quinn's jaw with a small smile. "And stuff."

"Like the neighbor's dog." Quinn explained obliviously. "His name's Apple."

God. Of course.

Rachel fell asleep about a minute later, and Quinn wrapped her up in the giraffe blanket like a cocoon, piled the stuffed animals on top of her, and carried the whole bundle into the bedroom as smoothly and gently as possible.

Rachel was only awoken temporarily when six animals bounced up on the bed to join in.

~oooooooooo~

"Rachel, hold him back! He's gonna throw himself out the window!"

Rachel rolled her eyes. Really? Was the calm little puppy in her arms going to fling himself out of the two-inch crack in the window?

Yes. Yes, he was. Rachel restrained him further and rolled the window up a little bit.

"How much further?" She asked. She hadn't exactly volunteered to ride for an hour in the car with Cloud on her lap. Quinn had snuck him in while Rachel was grabbing her bag and some snacks. She'd actually put all the animals in the car, but they'd spent twenty minutes cleaning up _that_ mess and arguing over which one they should bring, before leaving with Cloud.

He was the least monstrous. It seemed safe. He was just wiping his snotty little black nose all over the inside of the window and watching the scenery go by.

Rachel was a tiny bit disgusted.

"Almost there." Quinn said, pulling off the main road into a quiet neighborhood. It consisted of older houses with large, well-kept yards, mixed with that one occasional brown yard, where everybody else is like, dude. Fix your fucking yard. You're tearing us all down.

Quinn pulled up outside the greenest yard on the block and looked at Rachel nervously. Rachel smiled and handed her Cloud. Quinn immediately started running her hands through his fluff.

It was a two-story brick house with a stone path that led up to the front door, French windows jutting out on either side. Rachel was impressed. Mostly by how fucking bright green that grass was.

"Is that fake?" Rachel asked, climbing out of the car and getting a closer look at the grass. She actually crouched down to feel it between her fingers. It didn't feel fake. If it was, it was some pretty awesome fake grass.

Quinn snorted and then covered her nose and flushed. Rachel looked at her and raised her eyebrows.

"It's just…nice grass, Rachel." Quinn replied, straightening out her face. "Let's go inside."

Rachel narrowed her eyes, but let Quinn take her hand and lead her up to the front door, and then into the foyer. This was definitely less impressive. The opposite of the grass. A little dull. Unsaturated. Bare on the walls except for a few framed photos.

"Who are they?" Rachel asked as Quinn led her by them.

Quinn shrugged and continued into the living room, clutching Cloud in her arms. He looked around just as eagerly as Rachel. Eyes bright and wide, itching to go sliding around on the smooth wood floor. Nothing really seemed lived-in except for the couch in the living room and half of the huge kitchen.

"That's where I threw up." Quinn said bluntly, pointing at a spot on the living room rug.

Rachel nodded. Good to know.

"Show me your room, bear."

Quinn bit her lip. "You can't-don't make fun of me."

Rachel smiled and faced Quinn, tapping her on the cheeks. Quinn sucked them in like a goldfish and Rachel laughed.

"I can't promise that. You're a little weird." Rachel stated, lips quirked and looking Quinn in the eye. "But it doesn't matter, because I'll always love you."

Quinn stared at her. "You're gonna make fun of me."

Rachel just shook her head. Quinn sighed and brushed a dark lock of hair behind Rachel's ear, and then turned wordlessly and led her up the staircase. It was extremely loud and creaky.

Was this safe? Rachel felt like she was about to fall through.

"You won't fall through." Quinn said without looking around. Rachel grinned and slapped her on the butt, and then helped her up because that made Quinn trip up the last three steps.

But Quinn was no stranger to falling up stairs. Rachel knew this. She was a clutz.

"I don't know, um, how much…Lisa's changed it. But-there's-it's probably a mess." Quinn stuttered, hand on the doorknob, looking at Rachel's feet.

"Eyes, bear." Rachel said quietly. Quinn looked up nervously. "You invited me here. You don't have to show me."

Quinn shook her hair out and then gazed at Rachel while Rachel smoothed it down. "Nobody ever-nobody liked it. I mean, people would make fun of me. When I was younger. And then-just…nobody ever came over anymore."

"Quinn." Rachel said quietly. Meaningfully. "When I was nine, I painted a life-size picture of Barbra Streisand on my bedroom wall. Well, no. It was _extra_-life-size, like giant size. I made a Barbra beast."

Quinn laughed at that and Rachel tapped her on the lips to quiet her. "And it was horrific. I would wake up in the night and think that there was a murderer looming over my bed or lurking in the shadows. But I kept it up there because in the daylight, it looked like Barbra, and it was inspirational, and I liked it."

Okay, that was sort of stretching the truth. That thing on her wall was terrifying in all lighting, all times of the day, and definitely inspired her to stick with singing over painting.

"I wish I could show you a picture of it, bear, but I think my dads burned them all."

They'd almost burned the house down after seeing what Rachel had done to her wall.

"I think mine's better than that." Quinn mumbled into Cloud's fur with a smile.

Rachel nudged her in the ribs. "Let's take a look!"

With that, Quinn swung the door open and Rachel experienced a flashback to four months ago when she'd first stepped into Quinn's wonderland. Only this one was like super-mega-wonderland. Rachel actually choked a little on her saliva when she saw it. Quinn thumped her on the back. There was so much to take in.

Starting with the fucking life-size elephant painted on one of Quinn's bright blue walls. It had a smiley face. The elephant had a smiley face, and Rachel's day got ten times better.

She let out some sort of squeal of enthusiasm and Quinn flushed and smiled at her.

"I did it myself. Without permission. But Lisa said I could keep it if I kept all my, um, stuff confined to my room. Then I did the hippo and the bear, and she got mad again, but…She would never let me go to the zoo, so..."

That made perfect sense.

Rachel caught sight of the other two walls Quinn was speaking of, and lost control of her face. It was perfect for a kid's room. Or Quinn's room, at any age. God, she figured she was lucky Quinn hadn't done this to their apartment already.

It was probably because she had an outlet. Visiting zoos seven thousand times in a month and owning six _actual_ animals.

Rachel picked up some random maracas from the mess on Quinn's old desk and shook them around, doing a little dance and being a fool, until Cloud started spazzing out and trying to throw himself at Rachel and the instruments.

Quinn put him on the twin bed, which was against the only wall without an animal on it, and then sat down next to him. The covers were flowery and purple, and probably covered in dust, because Quinn started sneezing when she shifted around.

"Why did you leave all this stuff, Quinn?" Rachel asked, running her fingers over the little trinkets, and toy cars, and bright-colored paperweights. There were no books in the room. No, those were all packed precariously into a massive bookcase in an apartment in the city ready to topple over in the middle of some random night and kill the occupant of the bed.

"I didn't want to…come off as…" Quinn's eyes darted around like she was looking for the right word.

Rachel sat right next her, pressing their thighs together and daring Quinn to say the words. Rachel answered when Quinn fell silent.

"Intriguing? Remarkable?" Rachel tickled Quinn's ribs and smiled at the melodic laugh. "_Weird_?"

Quinn nodded and grabbed Rachel's hands to stop them. Rachel looked around again. "We're taking it home. Maybe not all of it, but…This is your stuff. I like it."

Rachel could probably do without the empty hamster cage in the corner, because that could only encourage the acquisition of _more_ animals, and she did not need the _four_ Furbys sitting on a shelf, because that was fucking self-explanatory.

Furbys were an unfortunate invention that could only end in frustration and the removal of batteries when shutting them in a closet just would not shut them up. Destruction by dogs was also a viable, fun option.

Who even bought four Furbys? Rachel would end up killing somebody if she had to deal with that.

"Hey, Apple's still there!" Quinn exclaimed, looking out her window into the neighbor's yard. She held Cloud up so he could see. Cloud got distracted by his reflection in the window pane and pawed at that instead.

Rachel was focused on a big plastic box sticking out from under Quinn's bed. "What's this?" she asked, pulling it out and taking the top off before Quinn could answer. She should've probably waited because she wouldn't be surprised if it was animals that Quinn had been hoarding, and that were now probably dead.

But Quinn wouldn't let any animals die. Ever. If she could help it. Rachel thought it was safe.

She gasped at what she saw, and almost started crying because ohmygod baby Quinn was the most adorable thing in the world.

Not half-blind Jelly, or demon Cornelius, or fluffy little Cloud.

Little baby Quinn, her Quinn, sitting in a child swing with curly blonde hair, being pushed by a woman who looked like adult Quinn, was the most wonderful thing Rachel had ever seen.

Quinn leaned over Rachel's shoulder to look, and Cloud took the opportunity to take Rachel's hair in his mouth. Rachel didn't notice. She was enamored.

"That's my mother." Quinn said softly. Rachel tore her eyes away from the photo and looked at Quinn. She was smiling. Which was good.

"Do you remember her at all? Or your dad?" Rachel asked.

Quinn shook her head. "I don't even-that's the only picture I have of us together."

"She's beautiful. Like you." Rachel said quietly, switching to the next photo. Quinn just kissed her on the head and then sat back and extracted the brunette hair from Cloud's mouth.

Rachel teared up at the next picture too. Toddler Quinn stood in the snow in front of a house, bundled up in a bright green ski-suit, blonde curls sticking out from under her wooly hat. She was hugging Pooh Bear close to her chest and grinning widely at the camera.

And Pooh looked _good_. Bright yellow. His jumper actually fit him. He wasn't balding. He was young.

Rachel impulsively twisted around and kissed Quinn, pressing their lips together, and then kissing her cheek just for fun. Quinn smiled that smile from the picture and gestured for Rachel to flip through the rest.

There was an elementary school Quinn, wearing a faded school uniform and a sad expression that said she'd rather be anywhere else. And then there was Quinn dressed as Snow White, mouth full of chocolate and hands full of Starburst.

It could totally have been taken yesterday.

Then there was Quinn riding a horse. Finger-painting some kind of masterpiece. Sitting on the sidewalk by herself, face covered in chalk, half on top of a giant smiley face that would've made anybody's day brighter. There was Quinn greeting a goat at a petting zoo, and then Quinn sitting in a car in tears after being bitten by a goat in a petting zoo.

The last one was teenage Quinn sitting on the beach at Coney Island. She was smiling widely, totally content and staring right at the camera. And she wore a t-shirt with a T-Rex on it. And her tongue was blue.

And Rachel burst into tears.

"Rachel! What's-are-" Quinn stuttered out in surprise, quickly wrapping her arms around her girlfriend and rubbing her back comfortingly.

God. Fucking rein it in, Rachel. Get it together.

Rachel took a few deep breaths and pressed her face into Quinn's neck. "I love-I love you. God, I love you, and we're taking-we're taking all these pictures and putting every single one of them up in our apartment because they don't need to be sitting in fucking box under a bed where nobody can see them."

Quinn smiled. "Language." She said softly. "Love you too. So much."

Rachel pulled back and let Quinn wipe at her eyes. "Why are they in there? Why aren't they spread around the house?"

Quinn sighed and rolled Cloud over so she could rub his tummy. "They were. I guess Lisa-I don't know. Once I was gone-well, she was never exactly super proud of me."

Rachel frowned. She was actually contemplating blowing every single one of these pictures up to poster size and then placing them at the most eye-catching, attention-drawing locations throughout her apartment. She would force people to look at them.

Oh, going to the bathroom? Look at my girlfriend as the most adorable damn baby in the world. Yeah, she's cuter than yours.

Maybe she could make them like the Mona Lisa so it seemed like Quinn's eyes followed everybody around. It would be wonderfully creepy.

"I want you to meet Apple." Quinn stated, changing the subject and ruffling Rachel's hair. She looked delighted as Rachel tried to duck away.

They took the box of pictures out to the car, along with some of Quinn's belongings like the maracas, and the financial aid form Lisa had to sign, before Quinn led Rachel out to the backyard and up to the tall, wooden fence.

Rachel looked around for some magical hole or doorway or something. Did the slats move? Why the hell were they standing out here?

"I'm gonna boost you over." Quinn said, kneeling down and holding her hands out for Rachel's foot. "And I wanna show you how high I can climb."

Yeah fucking right. That was not happening.

"Mm, no." Rachel said plainly, trying not to laugh. They were twenty-four. They didn't need to be climbing into a neighbor's yard to visit a dog named Apple.

Quinn's face fell. She stood up slowly.

"But, I want-I want you to meet-"

"Bear, I'm not letting you _throw_ me over that fence. Let's use the door." Rachel said calmly, taking Quinn's hand and leading her to the gate.

Quinn puffed out her cheeks, but allowed herself to be dragged along. She whined a little bit when Rachel tugged her up the steps to the neighbor's front door and rang the bell. Rachel squeezed her hand and shushed her.

"Think in pictures, Quinn. You're okay." Rachel said quietly right before the door opened to reveal an old man with graying hair and a welcoming smile on his face.

Rachel turned and looked at Quinn expectantly, restraining Cloud from dashing into this man's house. Quinn shut her eyes for a second and then focused on the man.

"Hi, Mr. Jones. I'm, um, you don't-"

"Quinn Fabray." The man stated with a small smile, green eyes twinkling.

"Yes-yes, sir." Quinn said, squeezing Rachel's hand tighter. "And this is my girlfriend, Rachel, and my dog, Cloud."

Rachel held out her hand with a bright smile. "It's wonderful to meet you, Mr. Jones!"

"You too, young lady." Mr. Jones winked at Quinn and Rachel flushed. He leaned over stiffly and patted Cloud's head. "I'm assuming you're here for my dog, right Quinn?"

Quinn shifted on her feet, but nodded. "I-I just wanted Rachel to meet Apple. He was…my favorite part about this neighborhood. Sorry I, um, don't usually use the-the door…"

Mr. Jones laughed and gestured for them to wait a minute.

Quinn let out a deep breath.

"He likes you." Rachel observed, nudging Quinn's hip with her own. "Did you ever get to know him? He seems like a nice neighbor."

And not a serial killer. It was rare.

Quinn shook her head. "No. I didn't really…get to know anybody."

Rachel nodded as a little Jack Russell came bolting out the front door, stopping immediately to investigate Cloud. Quinn grinned and scooped up the patchy, excitable Apple. She held him close to Rachel's face, a little too close because it was a dog for God's sake, and introduced them.

Rachel scratched behind Apple's ears. He was a lovable little dog, and she picked up Cloud so they could sniff each other out. Mr. Jones came back and stood in the doorway smiling at them.

"How 'bout you use the door from now on, Quinn." He said easily. "You're always welcome. I think Apple loves you more than me."

Oh yeah. Rachel knew the feeling.

"It would be nice to have some someone to talk to once in a while." Mr. Jones continued.

Rachel ruffled Quinn's hair. "That would be great for Quinn." She said brightly.

Mr. Jones smiled knowingly.

They spent about ten more minutes fussing over Apple before returning to the car and heading home. Rachel said a fond goodbye to that marvelous grass, and made sure she had every single one of Quinn's pictures in the backseat.

They were halfway home before she noticed the large hamster cage was back there as well.

Oh God. Give her strength.


	25. Chapter 25

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 25: My Unpredictable Girl, You're Impossible Girl**

Rachel had put too much trust in Cornelius. He had been slightly less demonic after the kitchen sink fiasco, so she'd let him carry her away with his splotchy fur and happy eyes. But that hellion was lurking underneath. He was a loose cannon by now. Purely psychotic. Rachel realized those happy eyes were _crazy_ eyes and his splotchy fur was a devil's mask. He'd lulled her into a comfort zone, and then struck again in the worst way.

He had torn the head off of Quinn's Pooh Bear.

The head was in the middle of the living room floor, like Cornelius had set it there in some kind of grotesque display of pride. The body was a couple feet away. Decapitated, but not spewing fluff. Rachel and Quinn had returned home before Cornelius could get that far.

It was like a murder scene.

Fucking Cornelius.

Rachel stood in the doorway, blocking Quinn's view. Would it be traumatic to see a headless Pooh Bear strewn about the living room? Probably. Rachel was approaching this like there was actually a dead body in there.

She was frozen. Should she call someone? The police? Probably not. Maybe animal control. Maybe a nice family with a big farm in the country.

Rachel looked down at Quinn greeting all the other animals. Plus Cornelius. She didn't know what he'd done yet. Rachel shoved him to the side and walked into the living room. She grabbed Pooh's head and body, and held them together so that she could show Quinn what happened without horrifying her.

She turned around and held them up with a pained expression, and Quinn looked over at her, dropping George when she saw what Rachel was holding. The cat landed with an enormous thud and sauntered away nonchalantly. Quinn's eyes widened. She took a step forward and then stopped, just staring at the bear.

"It was Cornelius." Rachel said quietly, gauging her reaction.

Quinn swallowed and her eyes flickered to Rachel before looking around for the culprit. She looked betrayed. Rachel managed to restrain herself from yelling "I told you so" because Quinn looked like she was on the verge of a breakdown.

It was her bear. She had the right to be dramatic.

Rachel put Pooh carefully on the couch, wincing when his head rolled off, and stepped towards Quinn.

"_Seal._" Quinn whined, kneeling in front of the splotchy dog. She sighed and looked straight into his psycho eyes. "You're a meanie." She said sadly, tugging on his ears.

Then she stood up and turned to Rachel with those puffed out cheeks and shiny eyes, and let Rachel wrap her in a hug.

"He's not getting bacon with his dinner anymore." Quinn muttered into Rachel's hair. "Or Sugar Puffs."

Alrighty. Just high-quality Pedigree dog food instead. That would show him.

"We'll fix him, bear." Rachel said, pulling away from Quinn and tapping her on the nose. Quinn dropped down on the sofa and held Pooh's head and body in separate hands. She looked up at Rachel helplessly.

Rachel hurried to get the sewing kit out of the hall closet. When she returned, she found Cornelius trying to get Quinn to play with him with Pooh's head. Like a ball.

God. He really was a psychopath. Rachel locked him in the bathroom and then sat next to Quinn.

"You can use green." Quinn blurted, watching Rachel anxiously and seeing that all the other colors of thread were tangled. Just solid masses of color. How did they even get like that? The same way iPod headphones turn into tangled solid masses as well. Magically.

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Then you'll be able to see the stitches, Quinn. He'll look like Frankenstein."

Quinn just stared at Rachel nervously until Rachel smiled at her. "Patience, baby."

Quinn rocked back and forth next to Rachel on the couch, until Rachel stabbed herself with a needle and stilled Quinn with a hand on her thigh.

"Sit still, bear. Give me some facts. Or quotes. Or something."

Distraction worked wonders with Quinn. She could get carried away so easily.

Hopefully it would distract from the fact that Rachel kind of had no idea what she was doing. Yeah, she could sew costumes together, and close up a leg hole on Fuzzy, but sewing a head back on was new. She could call someone for help, but that someone would probably be some kind of serial killer or taxidermist freak. Or Santana.

Rachel chose to wing it. She handed the tomato-shaped pincushion to Quinn to play with so that Quinn's hands would stop messing with the hem of Rachel's top.

It was distracting. Rachel felt like she was playing Operation. With that fucking guy with the light-up red nose. Any loud buzzing noise now terrified her because of that game.

Quinn took a deep breath next to her. "Promise me you'll never forget me, because if I thought you would, I'd never leave."

Wait, what? Rachel stopped trying to thread the goddamned needle and looked at Quinn with wide eyes. That was the sweetest sentiment she'd ever heard. Her mouth dropped open, and Quinn flushed.

"Pooh Bear said that."

Oh. Well. Rachel managed to close her mouth to smile and kiss Quinn on the cheek. "I'll never forget you, bear. But you're not going anywhere, either." Rachel said quietly, looking at Pooh and wondering where to start.

Just stab his neck? Yep. She was going for it.

"Maybe we can get some hamsters." Quinn said quietly, stabbing the pins into the tomato.

Haha. Fuck no.

_Some_ hamsters. Really? Not one, or a couple. _Some_. They could buy out a pet store. Why not go with _all_ the hamsters? God, had Quinn planned this? Rachel narrowed her eyes and watched Quinn make a smiley face out of pins in the tomato.

She had to smile.

No. This girl was not devious or evil enough to plan this out, getting Cornelius to wound her own bear, just so that Rachel would feel sorry for her and buy her some hamsters.

No. It was just Quinn being Quinn.

Still. "No." Rachel said resolutely. She would not be swayed this time. She ignored Quinn's honest eyes and puffed out cheeks and focused on Pooh.

"Why not?" Quinn asked softly, scooting closer to Rachel and leaning against her arm. Rachel was sure she was being played right now. Quinn just knew exactly what to do.

"They don't take up a lot of room. They're like, this big." Quinn held up her fist seriously and Rachel laughed.

"They will be _killed_, Quinn. By six different animals. Accidentally or purposely, whatever. They will die."

Quinn looked horrified. "They'll be in a cage!"

Rachel raised her eyebrows in amusement and held up Pooh. "Your little bear here was in the bedroom with the door closed. Your animals are cunning little beasts, Quinn. You can't trust them."

Quinn put the pincushion down and folded her arms, leaning back into the couch and facing away from Rachel.

Oh, that'll show her.

Rachel smiled. Fucking impossible. She continued sewing the head on Quinn's bear, surprised at how well it was going.

Quinn sat up a minute later, looking hopeful again. "What about a rabbit?"

Rachel rolled her eyes and focused on her sewing.

Quinn pressed into her side so that Rachel could feel warm breath on her cheek. "If we get a giant one it won't get killed by the other animals."

Good Lord.

"And he won't even need a cage. Once he's familiar with the apartment. It'll be like a-a dog. We can-we can-they-"

"Slow down, bear." Rachel said softly, not taking her eyes off the needle but biting her cheek to keep from laughing. She heard Quinn take a breath, and Quinn scooted even closer. She put her chin on Rachel's shoulder.

All the right moves, man. Rachel knew she didn't stand a chance.

"They're crepuscular."

Okay. That could mean anything to Rachel. Evil. Smart. Sick. Tall. Fast. Alien. Absolutely anything.

"So they sleep day and night, but play in the morning and evening."

Oh. So, they wouldn't have to deal with annoying hamster wheels at four in the morning. Just giant rabbits at the crack of dawn.

Quinn rocked excitedly next to Rachel, biting her lip and waiting for some kind of response. Rachel kept silent. She'd already said no. She just wanted to see how long that would last. This was already some kind of record.

"If I find a big one at the rescue, and it's healthy and nice…Can I bring it home?"

Quinn grabbed onto Rachel's thigh with both hands and squeezed, looking for an answer. That would not get her the right one. It would get her something else entirely. Rachel gently pried her off and stabbed Pooh's neck a few more times. Almost done.

"Little bear." Quinn whispered. Rachel bit her tongue.

"Once upon a time," Quinn started slowly. Quietly. Right in Rachel's ear. "There were four little Rabbits, and their names were Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter. They lived with their Mother in a sand-bank, underneath the root of a very big tree."

Oh no. Peter Rabbit. Rachel finished the last stitch and then sat staring at it and trying not to give in.

"I read _Peter Rabbit_ every day when I was little. My favorite was Benjamin Bunny. You remind me of him. He was braver than Peter. He wandered around Mr. McGregor's garden, not scared of anything. And he was Peter's friend. And he liked onions. Like you."

Ah, shit.

"Yes." Rachel blurted. "Okay. Yes. Yes. You can bring home a rabbit if there's a _large_ one at the rescue that needs a home."

God.

Quinn made an unintelligible noise of excitement and wrapped her arms around Rachel. Rachel laughed. She loved this. Why would she ever want to say no? She let Quinn kiss all over her face and then held up Pooh Bear.

Head securely fastened. Good as new. Except for the faded fur and bald spots. Rachel couldn't fix those. She also wouldn't advise putting Pooh in the washing machine any time soon, because that would be horrific.

Quinn tackled her again, hugging Pooh between them as they fell to the floor.

"We need to look for a bigger place." Rachel said loudly over Quinn's laughter, through a smile and a mouthful of blonde hair.

Quinn pulled back with wide eyes.

It was like Rachel was saying "we need to find a place that can hold more animals."

Rachel kissed Quinn's happy smile. That's exactly what she was saying.

~oooooooooo~

The next day, Rachel stood just inside the door of The Green Mango, clutching her lunch and wondering how to get home without being caught by the small swarm of paparazzi lurking out by the street. It looked impossible. There weren't even that many. Maybe six or seven. They just usually didn't bother trying to catch her midday doing mundane things like buying toilet paper because Butter ripped twelve rolls to shreds, or getting lunch from her favorite vegan take-out place because all that was left in the apartment was sugary cereal.

Rachel had previously known them mostly as vampires. They only came out when the sun went down. She was a little worried about what this meant.

But she was more worried that her wrap was getting soggy, which was unacceptable, so she pushed open the door and strode out into the sunshine with a bright smile.

She tripped abruptly on an uneven crack in the sidewalk, giving her fans who would be seeing these pictures something to laugh about, but she collected herself quickly and sauntered on like nothing had happened.

"Rachel! Where's Quinn today?"

At the animal rescue, of course. Probably picking out a gigantic bunny to take home.

"Is it true your girlfriend was raised in an orphanage?"

"Ms. Berry! Was Quinn really a problem child? A juvenile delinquent?"

Okay. Was this _Oliver Twist_? No.

"Rachel! Did your neighbors really call Animal Planet's _Hoarders _about your pet situation?"

God, no. But they probably should.

Rachel ignored the questions but smiled at the cameras as they hurried along beside her. She would tolerate them as long as they kept their distance. She didn't know what _not tolerating_ them would entail. Sprinting down the street? Attacking them with her bag of food?

Rachel hadn't had a moment like that in her career yet, but she was excited for it to come.

"Why is Quinn only starting college _now_? What happened? What's wrong with her?"

Wow. These people did their research. Rachel clenched her jaw and her smile faded. She started walking faster.

"Are you comfortable having a relationship with such a troubled woman?"

Oh my God. Rachel tripped on another sidewalk crack and managed to make it look like she was stopping purposely. She hoped. If not, they probably thought she was drunk. She turned and stared at the guy who had asked the question.

Assault him? Nah. Seemed a little dramatic.

Rachel thought of Quinn and smiled. What would Quinn do? She was the best moral compass. Maybe too good sometimes. Rachel looked right into the camera, picturing her bear.

"I am very happy and very much in love." Rachel stated genuinely with a smile, and then turned on her heel and walked into her building. She nodded to herself in the elevator.

Not bad. Not bad at all. She was such a professional.

Rachel was sitting down at the breakfast bar and biting into her veggie wrap when her phone rang. She moaned around her mouthful to answer it, attracting Butter, George, and Cornelius to the food.

"Erro." She said thickly, rushing to swallow and choking on a tomato. She spat it into her hand and held it there. She didn't have a napkin. Who needs napkins when you're _starving_? She wasn't even sure there were napkins in the house.

"Rachel?"

Oh shit. It was Barry. Rachel slid off the chair immediately, ready for action.

"Barry? What is it? Did Quinn have a panic attack? Is she okay?"

Maybe Quinn had finally been bitten by a rabid dog. It seemed like it was bound to happen eventually. Oh my God, Rachel's girlfriend had rabies.

"She's okay now. She had an allergic reaction to a walnut cookie, so we took her to the hospital. She's-"

"Oh my God! Is she okay?" Rachel exclaimed, ignoring the first half of Barry's statement. She looped her bag over her arm and hurried out the door of the apartment, shoving all the animals back inside as they tried to follow.

"Yeah. I said she's okay." Barry stated emphatically again, sounding a little dubious that Rachel was in her right mind.

"It wasn't too severe. Not anaphylactic or anything. She just wanted me to call you."

"Okay. Okay. She's okay." Rachel said. Mostly to herself. She thanked Barry and hung up as she exited her building, having completely forgotten about the cameras outside waiting for her. This time she ignored them entirely and hailed a cab to take her to the emergency room.

Rachel tried not to look too rushed, though her crazy eyes might have given her away. The paparazzi didn't seem too concerned. As she was opening the cab door, she realized she still had the chewed-up tomato, or choked-up tomato, in her hand. She was a little disgusted, and she tried to discreetly drop it onto the ground as she climbed into the car.

Of course she was unsuccessful, because Rachel Berry does not discreetly, and one of the camera guys looked at her like she was crazy. Or gross. But whatever. That wasn't headline material, right? Broadway star disposes of regurgitated tomato on city sidewalk.

Definitely not.

Rachel bounced her knees all the way to the hospital. Quinn didn't even like walnut cookies. Was she really that much of a damn cookie monster that she just couldn't stop herself? Risking her _life_?

Pssht. Cookies were probably worth it to Quinn. Rachel threw herself out of the cab when it reached the emergency room, and tripped on the curb on the way inside.

God, she was just not on her game today. _Was_ she drunk? She didn't think so.

She went straight through the waiting room and bypassed the reception desk because she could see Quinn sitting on a bed in a non-blocked -off area. It wasn't crowded at all. Wednesday morning must not be the prime hour for foolish decision making. Jumping off roofs. Setting things on fire. Setting other people on fire. Flaming people jumping off flaming roofs.

Quinn looked like a sad gerbil.

Hazel eyes lit up as they caught sight of Rachel and the gerbil tried to smile. Rachel almost laughed, but Quinn winced, so Rachel winced, and gave Quinn a hug when she reached her. Quinn whined into her ear, looking completely miserable when Rachel pulled back to examine her.

Her face and neck and everything Rachel could see was covered in fading red splotches. Her cheeks were swollen and her eyes were watering pathetically.

"Aww, baby." Rachel said softly, giving her gerbil another hug. She tried to pull back after a minute, but Quinn wouldn't let go, so she held on.

"What were you thinking, bear? Walnut cookies, really?"

Quinn finally released Rachel, and Rachel ducked to catch her eyes.

"I thought it was chocolate chip. It-it was oatmeal walnut." Quinn wheezed quietly. "It was disgusting, little bear."

Rachel chuckled and put her hands on Quinn's red cheeks. "And you just had to eat the cookie." She stated, lips quirked up.

Quinn nodded sadly. Rachel ran a hand through blonde hair and sighed. "You need to be more careful, Quinn."

"It looked like a chocolate chip cookie." Quinn defended. Rachel chuckled again and shook her head.

"Maybe we should eat less cookies. More veggies, you know?"

Quinn blinked. She probably wasn't comprehending this. "But this could have just as easily happened if I was allergic to a vegetable." She stated.

Rachel smiled. "But you don't stuff vegetables into your mouth before checking to see what kind they are."

Quinn flushed and looked down at Rachel's shoes. Rachel took both her shaky hands and squeezed. She leaned forward so her nose was only an inch from Quinn's.

"I mean…Maybe, once in a while, instead of having ice cream and pancakes for breakfast, you could have fruit." Rachel said carefully. Breakfast was dangerous territory.

Quinn stared at her. "And have ice cream for lunch."

Rachel made a noise between a laugh and a groan, and pulled Quinn off the bed to stand up. "Bear, listen, okay. Focus."

Quinn nodded and kept her eyes fixed on Rachel as they walked slowly to the hospital doors.

"You can eat like you do now, because you're a ball of energy and I don't think I've ever seen you sit completely still in my life. But I don't want you to turn thirty and fall apart because all you've been eating is gummy bears and cookies. Right?"

Quinn was quiet. She looked sort of distraught at the prospect that her gummy bears might be taken away. Rachel hurried to reassure her.

"I'm not going to tell you how to eat, Quinn. And I love my cookie monster. But maybe, a couple times a week, we can make things together. For breakfast or dinner or whatever. Healthy things. It'll be fun."

And they could burn the apartment building down in the process.

"But you can't cook." Quinn stated bluntly, coming to a stop just inside the double doors and getting distracted by a man who had his hand wrapped in a bloodied bandage. Rachel hoped it was his hand. It looked more like a stump. A table saw adventure gone wrong. God, she was going to throw up.

Rachel turned around and took a deep breath. "We can learn together." She said in reply to Quinn's comment.

This would probably be disastrous. They were just two people who didn't belong in the kitchen. Quinn nodded slowly and then held up her hand and stared at it for a moment. Rachel raised her eyebrows.

"What if we had hooks for hands?" Quinn asked, brows furrowed and completely serious. She looked down at Rachel with bright eyes. "Like pirates…Except, no. Then I wouldn't be able to touch you, or-"

Rachel snorted and rolled her eyes, pulling Quinn out the door. "Stop talking, bear. Rest your throat."

"Can we get ice cream on the way home?" Quinn whispered, shrinking behind Rachel a little as they caught sight of a few paparazzi lurking several meters away.

Had they followed Rachel here? Action move style, like _follow that cab_? Rachel longed to be able to do that in her own life. Go on a car chase through the streets of the city. She would make it happen. She'd probably end up being the one being chased.

For so many reasons.

"Yeah, bear." Rachel said quietly in Quinn's ear, guiding them towards a cab.

"What happened? Rachel! What happened to you, Quinn?"

"Quinn, what's wrong with your face?"

Rachel stopped and faced a camera for the second time that day. She held Quinn's hand tightly, blocking her partly from the camera.

"Quinn will be perfectly fine. She had an allergic reaction, but all is well again."

Headlines were probably already being written that said Quinn was on her "last legs." Her death bed. Terminally ill or pneumonic or anorexic. Rachel had gone in for a checkup once and the magazines the next day said she had a rare breed of tuberculosis. She puffed out her cheeks so that they looked like Quinn's and smiled at the camera.

The guys laughed and nodded their thanks, and Quinn slapped her shoulder as Rachel led her over to the cab.

"You look like a hamster." Rachel said with a laugh, tapping Quinn's cheeks once they were on their way. Quinn frowned and tried to twist away, and then froze and looked at Rachel with excited eyes.

Big, shiny hazel eyes in a puffy, splotchy, red face. Rachel bit her cheek and waited expectantly for the words.

"We need to stop by the rescue." Quinn stated seriously.

Rachel knew exactly what for.

~oooooooooo~

The rabbit was enormous. Why were their animals all so fucking huge? It had to be twelve pounds at least. It was a solid chocolate brown color with lop ears, and Quinn named it Benjamin Bunny. When Rachel picked him up, he bulged out around her arms. She could barely handle him.

The dogs were delighted with the new addition. Quinn let them play once she determined they weren't going to kill Benjamin, and they discovered that the rabbit was faster than all of them. And he liked to kick them in the faces.

Probably accidentally. Once Benjamin picked up speed he was like a rogue boulder, taking down anything in his path. Lamps. Small tables. Rachel.

He would tumble out of control until something broke or he hit a wall. Just like Quinn. Except Quinn's wall was Rachel.

Butter and George didn't seem too fond of him, probably because he was their only competition for "fattest animal alive." Quinn vowed to put him on a diet as well. Of carrots. Endless carrots. She'd even gotten him collar and a leash so that he could come on walks with Barnaby and Cornelius and Cloud. Benjamin would be swimming in Central Park in no time.

Could rabbits swim? Rachel figured she could accidentally drown Benjamin testing it out in her bathtub, or ask her own animal expert.

"Quinn, can rabbits swim?"

Quinn was in the middle of mixing up some cake batter rice crispy treats, the first of their healthy cooking endeavors. It wasn't healthy at all, and it was hardly cooking, but Quinn had requested they try it. And she still looked like a gerbil. So, baby steps. Rachel was gathering all the sprinkles she could find.

Quinn looked up excitedly and flicked rice crispies all over the floor. "Yeah! They're really good at it! Strong legs and all. But they're more susceptible to climate shock than people, so the water has to be the right temperature. And no chlorine, because they're really sensitive to chemicals as well."

So, yes. They can swim.

Rachel nodded, watching Butter and Cornelius eat all the food that was dropped on the floor. Seven animals was too much for this little kitchen to hold.

"I think three bedrooms would be good for us." Rachel said absently.

Quinn blinked, probably getting her mind off of swimming rabbits and onto Rachel's new subject.

"Maybe a yard." Rachel continued. "A house instead of an apartment. I just don't want to be too…far away."

Quinn bit her lip and stopped stirring. "We're not moving out of the city, Rach. You love it too much."

Rachel smiled and went back to her sprinkles. God, they had so many. Why had Quinn bought nine different varieties? They would just have to use them all.

"Just a bigger apartment." Quinn said, putting a glob of rice crispies in her mouth and forcing herself to swallow with her sore throat. Smiling when she was successful. Rachel shook her head fondly. "With space for family."

Family. Hmm. Like parents? Animals. _Babies_. A shock went up Rachel's back and she found she couldn't stop smiling. She gazed at Quinn, who grinned and then looked down at herself like she was searching for what Rachel was looking at.

"Do I have cake on me?" she asked, smile fading to confusion.

Rachel shook her head. She put the sprinkles down and gently removed the bowl from Quinn's hand, and then backed her up against the counter and kissed her. Quinn actually did have cake batter on her _back_, which-what the hell? How in the-No. Whatever. It was Quinn. Rachel just smiled into the kiss and wiped it off.

Quinn's cheeks were still puffy, and Rachel put her palms on them and looked into Quinn's eyes, just as Benjamin Bunny came barreling around the corner and slammed into her legs. It almost took her out, but Quinn steadied her and tapped the rabbit with her toes.

"I love you." Rachel said.

Quinn grinned. She had a sprinkle lodged between two of her teeth, and Rachel snorted and put her face on Quinn's chest.

"Love you too. Love you so much."

The rice crispies came out as a giant, cakey, gooey, sticky glob, with no shape or solid consistency whatsoever. And Quinn loved it. Rachel actually loved it too, though she'd never admit it. She sat on the couch with Quinn, funneling it into her mouth and watching their seven animals drive each other crazy.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: I have the rest of the story planned so that it's thirty chapters total, but don't hold me to that because I add random scenes all the time. Also, I've started planning the you for sticking with this and telling me your animal stories! I love hearing them.

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 26: I'll Search if You Can't See It**

Rachel woke up on Saturday morning feeling like she was in a furnace. She blinked against the sunlight and realized that her dogs were barking, and that she was seconds from bursting into flames. The city right now was a hot, muggy mess, the apartment was like an oven, and Rachel had something radiating heat plastered to her back. Engulfing her. She twisted her head to check it out.

Quinn, of course.

Sleeping peacefully with a bright red face and all four limbs wrapped around Rachel.

Completely naked.

_That's_ why all the animals were locked out of the room. It took Rachel a second to realize. She seemed to be having trouble making her mind work properly. She felt oxygen deprived. She was _sweating_. And oh my God, why did they have the three loudest dogs in the world?

Rachel lay in her pit of fire for another minute before realizing that it was probably Santana and Brittany at the door, here to give Rachel and Quinn their cooking lesson.

Because two people in the kitchen wasn't enough to properly burn the building down. No, all they could do was catch a roll of paper towels on fire, which Quinn accomplished last night. Trying to boil water for hot cocoa. In their sweltering apartment.

Rachel grabbed her phone off the side table and texted Santana to "hold the fuck on."

Rachel's eyes were blurring. She shifted a little and Quinn actually slid against her back they were so damn sweaty. Rachel would normally think that was hot, except she was literally too fucking hot and she felt like a volcano was erupting inside her body.

And not in the good way. If there was a good way to feel like that.

"Quinnnnn." She whined quietly, twisting her head so she could see her girlfriend's flushed face. Rachel knew Quinn could sleep through anything. Except something scary like the pipes groaning. She tried to peel Quinn's arms from her stomach and disentangle their legs, but Quinn squeezed tighter.

"Quinn, it's too hot." Rachel whispered, squirming to free herself from this octopus trap. She groaned when she was unsuccessful. She twisted again to face Quinn, whose eyes had flickered open, but shut as soon as Rachel saw them.

Rachel snorted, half expecting flames to come out of her nose. Nope. Only snot. A melting pot of snot. Rachel was glad Quinn's eyes were closed so she didn't have to witness _that_. This whole situation was getting a little gross.

"Quinn, San and Britt are here. Get up."

Quinn stayed completely still. Rachel rolled her eyes and started shifting her body back and forth to loosen Quinn's hold. The bed started rocking, and Rachel remembered where Quinn's legs were, and stopped abruptly. That's not what she wanted. Right now.

"I know you're awake, Quinn." Rachel stated, staring at her bedroom door. If the dogs didn't shut up soon they'd be evicted.

Quinn was silent. Rachel reached back and palmed her face, smiling when she received a whine and a grumpy groan. Quinn's face was on fire. They were both just going down in flames.

"You poked me in the eyeball." Quinn grumbled sleepily, burying her face in Rachel's hair and discreetly moving her hands up from Rachel's stomach to her breasts.

"No I didn't." Rachel said with a smile, grabbing the hands and rolling over to face Quinn in the loosened hold. She tickled along Quinn's belly and stared into bright hazel eyes.

They were brighter than normal. Quinn was probably suffering from heat stroke. Rachel felt like she'd succumbed to it about ten minutes ago.

"It's too hot." Quinn said quietly, eyes wandering all down Rachel's body.

Rachel narrowed her eyes. Was that a joke?

Quinn snorted and covered her nose with her hand. Rachel shoved her in the shoulder, shaking her head and turning away to hide her smile. Quinn leaned up on her elbows and draped herself over Rachel's torso to kiss her cheek.

This was not the solution to the problem.

"Bear, if you get up now, Santana's going to show us all how to make hash brown omelet skillets." Or omelet hash browns. Or skillet omelets. Rachel hadn't really been paying attention. Santana could have said spicy fiesta chicken Caesar salad for all she knew. Whatever it was, it had sounded good.

Quinn hovered over her with wide eyes, and Rachel reached up to smooth out some blonde tangles.

"Like Denny's hash browns?" she asked excitedly.

Pssht. Rachel had no fucking idea. Quinn looked wondrous, so she nodded and tapped Quinn's nose. Quinn loved Denny's. Mostly because she loved ordering "Moons over My Hammy." Or _saying_ "Moons over My Hammy."

Quinn grinned and leaned down to kiss Rachel's mouth, not even wincing at the morning breath, and then she crawled over Rachel and fell to the floor next to the bed, hopping up brightly like a pro at naked gymnastics.

Somebody, somewhere in the world had to have a naked gymnastics league. Rachel vowed to discover who and where. For so many reasons.

She eyed Quinn appreciatively, smiling when Quinn stopped bouncing to the bathroom, and doubled back to say "I love you" and kiss Rachel on the cheek. Rachel rolled herself out of bed, glad to hear that the barking had stopped, and joined Quinn for a cold shower.

They emerged when their faces were normal colors again, and their body temperatures were back down to tolerable levels. Quinn turned the A/C on and frowned at the groaning noise it made.

"That's how it always sounds, bear." Rachel assured, texting Santana that they were ready now.

Santana replied with a charming "fuck off" and showed up at the door with Brittany thirty seconds later.

~oooooooooo~

"First, you're going to melt four teaspoons of butter. Berry, you can use that substitute shit instead, and Britt, that's whipped cream. Not butter."

Santana was perched on the kitchen counter with Quinn, Rachel, and Brittany opposite her, each with a bowl and in varying states of confusion. They had _just_ started. They shouldn't be having such problems yet. Rachel felt like she was in a competition. She had to win.

Yeah. _Melt_ that butter. She got this.

Quinn eagerly stuck her bowl of butter in the microwave, and was the first to complete the task. It definitely looked like she'd used more than four teaspoons.

"Then dump the butter in a bowl, and add four cups of hash browns and two egg whites." Santana stated.

Whoa. Slow down there. Rachel was still having trouble melting her butter. Mostly because she didn't know how to work the microwave. And it wasn't _actual_ butter. Shouldn't it still behave like real butter, though? Rachel didn't know. But it wasn't behaving.

"Berry, again, if you use that vegan crap, it's gonna taste like shit." Santana said, eyeing Rachel's egg-substitute and patting Jelly's head.

Rachel rolled her eyes.

Santana fanned herself with a package of ham. "We need to do this fast, people, so pick it up, 'cause I'm sweating balls over here."

Oh, wonderful.

"Can I please use eight cups of hash browns instead of four?" Quinn asked nicely from her little station, not-so-carefully measuring out hash browns from the bag. Basically dumping them _everywhere_.

But, Jesus. _Eight _cups of hash browns.

Rachel smiled, and then caught a whiff of something burning coming from the microwave. Could fake butter burn? Of course. Rachel would find a way.

Santana stared at Quinn. "No."

Quinn's face fell and she started funneling hash browns from her bowl back into the bag, tipping most of them on the floor in the process. Barnaby and Cornelius were thrilled. Frozen hash browns!

"San, I cracked four eggs. Now what?" Brittany asked brightly, holding up a bowl of melted whipped cream in one hand and another with far too many eggs in the other hand.

Santana smiled at her. "Give half to Quinn, B. And Quinn, get off the damn floor. Stop playing with the dogs. And clean your shit up. You look like a slob."

Rachel threw a wrapper at Santana, and then one at Quinn as well to make her smile.

"San." Brittany chastised, handing a bowl of eggs to Quinn with a grin. Quinn thanked her and started carefully picking out the eggshells.

Rachel finally managed to prepare her fake butter.

"Berry, you're holding back the rest of the class." Santana stated like it was the most annoying thing she'd ever experienced. "Quinn, Britt, now you need to add salt and pepper, mix it all up, and then pack it tightly in the skillet."

"Is this salt?" Quinn asked holding up a jar of sugar. She didn't wait for an answer. Just plunged a finger inside to taste it. Her eyes widened and Rachel laughed and gently took the jar away from her. Quinn and pure sugar could only create chaos.

"Okay, stick 'em in the oven." Santana ordered, eyeing their three skillets critically, grabbing Quinn's because Quinn looked like she was about to burn herself. She made a sort of disgusted face at Rachel's, but nodded that it looked acceptable. Or acceptable enough to go in the oven. "Now melt half a teaspoon of butter so we can do the filling."

Oh God. More butter. Rachel sighed, but did as she was told.

"Then add onions, bell peppers, and ham."

Okay, Santana seemed like she was on the verge of some kind of power trip here.

Quinn scrunched up her face. "I don't like onions or peppers. Or walnuts. Or soda. Did you know onions can make dogs anemic?"

Oh, Rachel definitely knew. She smiled when she caught Quinn's eye, and reached down to pat Barnaby.

God, it was so fucking hot. Was their A/C working? It should be. It sounded like a jet was landing on the roof.

"And an elephant's tooth can weigh nine pounds." Quinn added, smiling down at her cutting board when nobody responded.

"Quinn, you don't need a fucking mountain of ham. Control yourself." Santana said, showing Brittany how to chop a pepper. Rachel glared at her, still in the process of concocting her second batch of fake butter.

"You shouldn't swear." Quinn said quietly, staring at her extra ham for a minute, and then dumping it onto the kitchen floor.

"Quinn!" Rachel exclaimed over Santana's laughter. "Someone else could've used that!"

Quinn looked at her, and then at the dogs who'd just consumed all the ham. "Oh. Sorry."

Yeah, right. She was probably as happy as the dogs were that she got to give them a pile of ham. Rachel shook her head and moved to the fridge so that she could stick her face inside to cool down.

"How is college, Quinn?" Brittany asked, in tears over the onions.

"Britt, watch your hands!" Santana said frantically, watching as Brittany flailed her knife around with the vegetables and looked intently at Quinn. Quinn was sitting on the floor again playing with Cornelius.

She gave Brittany a small smile and started playing with Cornelius's collar. "It's good."

Rachel pulled out of the refrigerator and watched her carefully. Just _good_? Santana raised her eyebrows and looked at Rachel questioningly. Rachel shrugged.

"I have a chem exam next week." Quinn continued, speaking into Cornelius's fur.

Ah. There was the problem.

Then Quinn brightened and sat up straighter against the cabinets, looking up at Brittany with a grin. "But we talked about _Gulliver's Travels_ in my lit class the other day. And it was fun. I wish-I wish I could live in a land ruled by horses. If I could take Rachel with me."

Rachel would actually be amenable to that. If they were nice horses. Or Shetland Ponies or something. God, she'd love to live in a world ruled by Shetland Ponies.

Rachel smiled at Quinn and moved to the other side of the kitchen so she could kneel down and kiss her, shoving Cornelius out of the way when he tried to butt in. He knocked her over and she ended up in Quinn's lap.

"Awww." Brittany said, accidentally brushing a pile of peppers off the cutting board onto the floor. Butter pounced on them. The cat, not the disaster in Rachel's pan. Brittany was sweating now too. What if they all died in this apartment? Who would discover them?

Santana scrunched up her nose when Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel, exactly like that morning, except in a sitting position. "Disgusting." She muttered.

She had everybody add their vegetable mixtures, or their pile of ham, to the skillet before putting them back in the oven to bake. Rachel saw Quinn discreetly trying to add marshmallows to hers, and she grabbed her wrist gently to stop her.

_Marshmallows _in an omelet. Really.

"Healthy." Rachel mouthed with a smile. Quinn flushed, if that was even possible with how red they all were, and Rachel tapped her cheeks, putting the marshmallow bag back in the pantry. Right next to the jar of sugar.

Rachel's hash brown omelet came out white, which was a little weird. She couldn't actually think of any food that was white. Except marshmallows. It was probably because of her butter, egg, and cheese substitutes. Basically, her omelet was completely fake. She choked it down though, and held her head high at Santana's disgusted expression.

Brittany's came out looking wonderful, probably because Santana did half the work for her. It tasted a little weird, because of the whipped cream that was used instead of butter, but it was definitely better than Rachel's concoction.

Quinn's omelet came out twice the size of everybody else's. It was loaded with ham and cheese. There was probably some extra egg in there as well. Maybe some gummy worms. Had she really used eight cups of hash browns? It looked like it. Quinn was delighted, and she ate the whole thing.

The apartment was gradually cooling down, but Brittany and Santana were still glad to leave what had now become a sauna. Rachel let Quinn feed the rest of her omelet to the dogs. It was only eleven a.m., and they'd already managed to destroy the kitchen. Rachel stood in the doorway and surveyed it, smiling when Quinn's arms wrapped around her from behind.

"We should clean this up." She stated, without making any motion to actually follow through with that. She tilted her head back and kissed Quinn's cheek.

"My stomach hurts." Quinn said softly.

Rachel hummed. She had warned Quinn. Santana had warned Quinn. They all had. Quinn just didn't listen. This bear just wouldn't be trained.

"Play with me." Quinn said, kissing Rachel's ear.

Rachel laughed and gestured to the kitchen. "Clean this up and we can go back to bed and I'll play with you."

Quinn was silent for a minute, just breathing into Rachel's hair. "Really?"

Rachel nodded.

Quinn quickly released her and moved into the kitchen, chatting happily with all the cats slinking along the counters. Rachel smiled to herself. Then she checked the thermostat and found that it was 86˚F inside. God, they needed a new place. She would start looking soon.

~oooooooooo~

Later that day, Rachel leaned against the back of the couch and peered over Quinn's shoulder to see what she was writing. Quinn had her notes out and a laptop balanced on her knees. Rachel plucked the notes off the seat and smiled.

"Quinn, you have terrible handwriting. You know, the lines are there for a reason."

Quinn turned around and grinned. "My writing is wobbly. Like Pooh's. And the letters get in the wrong places."

And elephants appear at the bottom of every page. Rachel kissed Quinn's head and then toppled herself over the back of the couch to sit next to her.

"Are you studying?" she asked, leaning into Quinn's side to look at the laptop screen.

"Um, not really." Quinn answered distractedly.

Rachel nudged her in the ribs. "What are you doing?" she asked, reaching down to pick up Benjamin. She realized that she'd give herself a hernia if she did it that way, so she scooted off the couch and lifted with her legs instead. That's what Puck always said. Lift with your legs. Not your back. Rachel felt something pop in her back anyway.

Benjamin flailed a bit and kicked Rachel in the face and chest a few times, which would probably bruise, but then he settled down and sat quietly in her lap.

Quinn watched it all with a happy smile. She watched Rachel get assaulted by their rabbit, and she smiled. Rachel poked her in the ribs again, harder this time.

"What are you doing?"

Quinn's smile faded and she sighed, tickling Benjamin under the chin, and then tickling Rachel under her chin as well. Just to make her laugh. Rachel did laugh, and then swatted her hand away.

"I'm typing up my notes so I can send them to some girls in my class…So they can study."

Rachel frowned and looked through the notebook. Even taking in the diagonal writing and huge pictures of elephants at the bottoms of the pages, there were at least twelve pages of notes. Rachel didn't understand any of it, but there were twelve pages.

"That's… a lot." She said, looking at Quinn with her eyebrows furrowed.

Quinn puffed out her cheeks and shrugged, continuing her typing.

"Are they gonna do the same for you for the next exam?" Rachel asked. This had to be some kind of quid pro quo. Why else would you type up twelve pages of notes for a classmate? God, why would you take twelve pages of notes for _yourself_?

Quinn shrugged again. Rachel narrowed her eyes and leaned around in front of Quinn, so that she could tap Quinn's lips.

"They don't really come to class at all." Quinn explained quietly.

Rachel frowned. "Why not?"

Quinn shrugged. Rachel sighed. "Words, Quinn. Please."

Quinn shut her laptop and turned to look at Rachel, her hands reaching out to play with Benjamin's lop ears. "I don't know. They just-they came during the first week, and they were nice to me, and they asked me if I would take some notes for them…And I-I said yes because they seemed like they could be…friends. With me. I mean, I don't-I don't know…"

Quinn trailed off and shook her head around, which terrified Benjamin enough that he lobbed himself off Rachel's lap and landed on the floor with a muffled thump. Rachel kept her eyes fixed on Quinn, and tried to smooth the blonde hair back down.

"They seem like lazy dumbasses." Rachel stated bluntly, having apparently lost what little filter she had. But it was true. Quinn frowned at her, now playing with the rubber band on her wrist because her funny-eared bunny had gone.

"Quinn, you don't need to be wasting your time trying to help these girls out when they can't even be bothered to show up to class."

Quinn looked down at her lap. "They were being nice. I thought-I thought they'd be my friends."

Rachel studied her for a moment, and then took Quinn's hand and squeezed until she made eye contact. "You're a sweetheart, bear."

Quinn flushed and Rachel smiled. "And you'll make friends. You have six more years of college, and you _will make friends_." Rachel stated emphatically. "And they won't be freeloading bitches either."

"Rachel." Quinn chastised softly. Rachel ruffled her hair, smiling when Quinn ducked away.

"I'm happy with the friends I have." Quinn said. Rachel nodded, waiting for more words. She could see it in Quinn's eyes. They were coming. It just took a while to put them in the right places.

"The college experience is supposed to be-it's-I don't know. Parties and roommates and drinking and friends and barbecues and clubs…Plus-plus, you know, _school __._I don't…" Quinn sighed.

Rachel watched Quinn carefully and determined that she was finished talking. "Do you like parties, Quinn?" she asked.

Quinn stared at the coffee table for a moment and shook her head slowly. Too many people. Too much noise. Rachel knew this.

"Do you think you can find a better roommate than me?" Rachel asked next with a smile and a raised eyebrow. Quinn's eyes widened and she shook her head vigorously. Rachel nodded. Good answer. They'd end up in some kind of custody battle over the seven animals. Quinn would win.

"And you don't like alcohol." Rachel said, not even asking this time. Quinn scrunched up her face and shook her head. That was too bad, because Rachel would love to see what drunken Quinn was like. It would only have to happen once. She'd videotape it and save it for generations to come.

Rachel tapped Quinn's cheeks, and then held her by the ears to keep her fidgety head still. Quinn narrowed her eyes, and threw her head around like a horse, before stopping because Rachel was not letting go.

"We are going to the next NYU barbecue," Rachel stated, slowly and deliberately, "no matter which organization hosts it, because I know they will have macaroni and cheese, and that is one of the aspects of this _college experience_ you speak of that you will enjoy."

Quinn grinned and grabbed Rachel's ears as well.

"And _then_," Rachel continued, looking into bright hazel eyes, "we're going to find an animal club for you to join, and you'll find a friend who likes lions and zoos and dogs, just like you do."

Not _just like_ Quinn, because that was impossible. Rachel couldn't handle multiple Quinns. She'd end up with seven thousand animals. She'd probably end up with seven thousand animals with _one_ Quinn. A mini Quinn would be nice. Some day. Far away. When they lived in an apartment that had better climate control than a shack made of straw.

Quinn pulled Rachel closer to her by the ears, pressing their lips together forcefully. Quinn pulled back and looked at her closed laptop, then back at Rachel, finally releasing her ears and patting them softly.

"I don't want to do this anymore." Quinn said, holding up the notes.

Rachel smiled. "Then don't."

Quinn bit her lip. "I'll-I was halfway done, so I'll e-mail them what I did, because…it's done anyway. And I'll tell them to study."

Rachel just smiled again. This girl. This girl was too good. She tipped forward so her head was pressed against Quinn's shoulder.

"Good bear." She chuckled. "Love you."

Quinn patted her head like a puppy. "What's for dinner?" she asked, tapping her hands along Rachel's back.

Rachel could hear the smile. She huffed into Quinn's sleeve. Some sort of animal was clawing at her leg. A dog, a cat, or a rabbit, she really couldn't tell.

Quinn shook her shoulder lightly. "What's for dinner?"

Nope. Rachel was not indulging this. She'd sit here until Quinn said it.

"What's for dinner, Rachel?" Quinn sing-songed, swaying so that Rachel's head moved.

Rachel stayed silent, smiling into Quinn's shoulder. Slobbering onto Quinn's shoulder. Okay, if the scratch that just went up her leg was any indication, that animal clawing at her was a cat. She sat totally still.

Quinn finally sighed and kissed Rachel's cheek. Rachel grinned. She knew Quinn wouldn't last long.

"Love you. Love you so much." Quinn whispered, bouncing her knees impatiently.

There it was. Rachel rewarded her bear with a kiss. Positive reinforcement. Quinn went right back to the subject of dinner.

"Now, can we make macaroni and cheese, please? The vegan kind, so you can have some too."

Oh, God yes. Anything but hash brown omelets.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: To answer a question, yes, there will be another Quinn chapter. It'll probably be the next one actually.

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 27: She's Like the Wind**

The second time Rachel experienced one of Quinn's panic attacks, they were in the same building. The same room, which happened to be a huge studio apartment being shown to them by a realtor. Quinn had been antsy and agitated all morning. Rachel thought she was just grumpy because she had to get up early and only had a _banana_ for breakfast.

A _banana_. It was crazy. Cornelius had eaten all the Sugar Puffs.

Quinn had even seemed better half an hour ago, sliding around the waxy wood floors of the studio in her scuffed up shoes.

But then they started talking with the realtor about payments and moving days and building rules, and Quinn started rocking on her heels. It was when they began discussing neighbors and bus routes that Rachel realized Quinn was breathing more rapidly.

Excitement or panic? She wasn't sure at first. She turned to check on Quinn's face, and did a double take.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, and the realtor trailed off with whatever she was saying about building policies, looking at Rachel questioningly. Rachel grabbed Quinn's hand.

"Quinn." She whispered, stepping halfway in front of her girlfriend. Quinn exhaled sharply through her nose.

Rachel turned back to the realtor. "Could you give us a minute, please?" she asked quietly. The woman nodded quickly and hurried back out the front door. Because there were no walls in this damn apartment.

No segmentation at all. It was kind of cool, because no murderers would be able to sneak up on them. They wouldn't find themselves in any _When a Stranger Calls_ situations. Well, they might, but they'd be able to _see_ the stranger.

But they wouldn't be able to play hide and seek.

So, it was probably a no.

Quinn started backing away. Where she was going, Rachel didn't know, but she was about to fall on her ass, so Rachel held her hand tighter. If Quinn went down, Rachel was going with her.

"Mmm, no." Quinn whined, prying her hand out of Rachel's grasp and shaking her head around.

"Okay, okay." Rachel said softly, watching Quinn carefully. Quinn backed up until she hit a wall, and then sat down and crossed her legs, hunching over and pressing her face against her knee. She had her hands over her ears again.

Rachel stepped forward carefully and lowered herself in front of Quinn, sitting exactly the same way. Quinn was crying quietly. Rachel felt that vice grip on her heart come back.

God. Where did this even come from? Was it the hide and seek thing? Because Rachel would live in a maze if it meant Quinn could play her games.

Quinn's wheezing started to increase, and Rachel did exactly what she'd done the first time at the animal rescue. She put one hand on the top of Quinn's head, and used the other to pull Quinn's hand off her ear.

"Quinn." She said softly, hunching over so her face was right in front of Quinn's. Quinn didn't respond. "Honey, can you look at me, please?"

Quinn whined again and shuffled to the side, shaking Rachel's hand off her head. Rachel followed.

"Big bear, let me see those eyes." Rachel pleaded quietly, watching the tearstain on Quinn's knee grow. Quinn started coughing into her jeans and Rachel shifted even closer, so their knees were overlapping.

"Quinn, you need to sit up. You can't breathe like that, honey." Rachel coaxed, trying to gently push Quinn upright by her shoulder.

Quinn complied, and then tried to turn and face the wall. Rachel grabbed her knees.

"No. No, bear, listen." Rachel said meaningfully, reaching out to palm one of Quinn's flushed cheeks. "You're okay. You're okay, Quinn. Give me some animal facts. Can you do that? Tell me about elephants."

Quinn shook her head and started coughing again. Rachel wished she would open her eyes. She was a little lost. Her own eyes were welling up and she felt very paranoid in this giant empty apartment. She needed _walls_.

But she was Rachel Berry. And when all else fails, _sing_.

Hushabye Mountain. Because Quinn loved it and knew the words, so she'd be able to focus on them.

"_A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain softly blows o'er lullaby bay, it fills the sails of boats that are waiting, waiting to sail your worries away_." Rachel sang softly, moving a hand up to rub Quinn's back, glad when she stopped coughing. She needed that giant fluffy dog from the movie to come and help her out.

"_It isn't far to Hushabye Mountain, and your boat waits down by the key. The winds of night so softly are sighing, soon they will fly your troubles to sea_."

Rachel smiled to herself when Quinn started mouthing along, though her eyes were still closed. She wasn't wheezing anymore, and Rachel grabbed both her hands to steady them.

"_So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain, wave goodbye to cares of the day. And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain, sail far away on lullaby bay_."

Rachel smiled softly when Quinn finally opened her eyes on the last line. "There she is." She said quietly, leaning forward to kiss both tear-stained cheeks. Quinn took a deep breath and shook her hair out again.

"Can you-can you do the Heffalump song, please?" Quinn asked quietly, sniffling and gazing into Rachel's warm eyes.

Are we in kindergarten?

Oh God. Rachel didn't know if she knew all the words. Which was terrible. What twenty-four year old didn't know all the words to "Heffalumps and Woozles"?

"Am I taking requests now?" she asked softly, smoothing Quinn's hair out of her face where it stuck to her eyes and cheeks.

Quinn swallowed and nodded seriously. "Yes."

Rachel scrunched up her face to remember the first verse. It was very energetic, which was why Quinn loved it. And it would be a good distraction. Lots of pictures for the mind.

"_They're black, they're brown, they're up, they're down, they're in, they're out, they're far, they're near, they're gone, they're here, they're quick and slick, they're insincere…"_

And that was it. Who in the fucking world could memorize more than that? Rachel wasn't even sure what she was saying. She could just string rhyming words together and call it a success. Rachel narrowed her eyes as she stared at Quinn, trying to come up with the rest. Quinn sniffed again and gave her a small smile.

"_Beware, beware, be a very wary bear_." Quinn sang softly. Slowly. Blinking exaggeratedly. Rachel bobbed her head side to side as Quinn sang.

"_A Heffalump or Woozle is very confuzle, a Heffalump or Woozle's very sly, sly, sly, sly, they come in ones and twoozles, but if they so choozles, before your eyes you'll see them multiply, ply, ply_."

Who in God's name wrote this song? Were they high? Rachel chuckled when Quinn started singing louder.

"_They're extraordinary, so bewary, because they come in every shape and size, size, size, size, if honey's what you covet, you'll find that they love it, because they'll guzzle up the thing you prize_."

Quinn got up on her knees and wrapped her arms around Rachel on that last line. Guzzling her up? Alrighty then. Rachel rubbed her back soothingly.

"Better, bear?"

Quinn nodded and pulled back, wiping off her face and standing up. Rachel followed suit, watching her carefully.

"Do you-do you want to go see Tom? I'll come with you if you want." Rachel asked her slowly.

Quinn scrunched up her face for a moment, but nodded. Rachel tapped her cheeks. She looked around the apartment and wondered briefly if their realtor was alright. She'd been hanging out in the hallway for ten minutes. Then Rachel looked at Quinn's shiny face again.

"I know you want to take your shoes off and race me around this apartment, Quinn." Rachel stated, smiling mischievously.

Quinn looked at her, visibly brightening. She looked hopeful. Rachel grinned and grabbed her hand, and they worked on setting their shoes up as a finish line.

Quinn won the race, because Quinn won _all_ their races. She must train in her spare time. Rachel slipped and managed to slam her head on one of the _two_ doors in the giant room. It was a feat of statistical brilliance. Rachel just did everything brilliantly.

~oooooooooo~

"Change is hard for you, Quinn." Tom stated, folding his hands and staring at the two women sitting across from him.

Rachel stayed quiet and waited for more of an explanation. Quinn twisted Henry's tentacles around her fingers.

"It's hard for anybody with Asperger's. It's actually one of the main characteristics. You like safety, basically. You know, the mindset 'if you're comfortable where you are, why would you change it?'"

Quinn blinked. She glanced at Rachel, and then back at Tom. "But…We're not comfortable. It's too hot." She said bluntly.

Rachel nodded in agreement. Her apartment used to be comfortable, but then six more mammals moved in everything went to hell.

Tom smiled. "Maybe not so literally. You're comfortable because you know what to expect every day."

Yeah fucking right. Working the appliances was like a game of Russian roulette for Rachel. So was being with Quinn. Walking their dogs. Feeding their cats. It definitely made life spicy.

"Now that you have plans to move, it's sort of a fear of the unknown." Tom explained, knocking his knuckles on the desk to get Quinn to look at him. "You don't know what's coming, so you can't prepare. You don't know how you'll react, and you don't know how things are going to turn out. And that makes you anxious. It built up."

Tom raised his eyebrows like he was asking if Quinn agreed. Quinn opened her mouth, and then closed it and nodded slightly.

Rachel watched them. She spoke up when nobody said anything else.

"So…" she scratched her chin in thought. Rachel was used to just diving straight in to new situations. Take them as they come and blow them away. She couldn't be cautious or adverse to change as a Broadway actress. Broadway _star_.

"Um, should we-" Rachel turned away from Tom to look at Quinn instead. "Do you-do you want to slow down?"

Quinn's eyes widened. She looked a little panicked. "Slow what down?"

Rachel stared at the bear charms on Quinn's necklace and bit her lip. She really didn't know what she was suggesting. This was an incredibly vague conversation.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Tom interjected.

Thank God. Rachel tore her eyes off the bears and focused on him instead. She could still feel Quinn's eyes boring into the side of her head.

"I mean, if slowing things down in general would make you more comfortable, by all means, go ahead. But we don't want to do it to the point where you're regressing back inside yourself. Not taking any chances, not following any opportunities, not meeting new people. We don't want you to go back to that, Quinn."

Rachel heard a shaky breath to her right and turned to find Quinn still staring at her.

"I don't-I don't need to slow down with you, Rachel." Quinn whispered. _Very_ quietly. Rachel had to lean over the armrest so that it dug into her ribs to hear properly.

She searched Quinn's face carefully, looking for any signs that Quinn wasn't telling the whole truth. All she saw were honest hazel eyes. Shiny eyes. Quinn couldn't lie.

"What do you need, bear?" Rachel asked, equally quietly. She gently took the octopus out of Quinn's lap so her girlfriend would focus.

"I'm-mmm…" Quinn shook her hair out. If she did that any more today it would end up in a permanent afro. She'd probably love it. Rachel smiled at the mess. Tom was smiling at them as well.

Quinn stayed silent. Rachel reached under the armrests and nudged her in the ribs.

"I'm-I love where we are right now. I don't want to slow down." Quinn said, sitting up straighter and meeting both Rachel's and Tom's eyes. "I'm doing…well. _Really_ well. I just got sort of…That apartment was really big. And open. And everything was new, and…"

Quinn scrunched up her face.

"Overload." Tom said simply.

Of course the first thing that came to Rachel's mind was the song from _Dirty Dancing_.

She swayed a little bit while the lyrics came back to her, and then snapped her fingers to sing it quietly because the room had gone silent. "_Oh won't you help me cure this overload_."

She threw in some shoulder dancing for Quinn's benefit. Anything to make her laugh.

Tom chuckled heartily.

"What is that from?" Quinn asked with a grin.

Rachel's jaw dropped. It was _Funny Girl_ all over again. Definitely time to go through her musical selection with Quinn, if only to avoid moments like this. Moments where she found herself wondering who this person was.

"_Dirty Dancing_." Rachel stated seriously, fist tightening around Henry's…body? Head? Thorax?

Quinn's smile brightened. "I've heard of that!"

Rachel tried to stop herself from rolling her eyes to the back of her skull. "But you haven't seen it." She stated. Quinn shook her head, smile faltering a little at the expression on Rachel's face.

Rachel had accepted long ago that she could not control her face. It had a mind of its own. She let out a breath.

Alright. Rein it in. Keep control. Just show her all the movies. It'll be fine.

"I-you can-I'll watch it if-if you want me to." Quinn said, sounding unsure. She looked a little wary of Rachel, and eyed the octopus being squeezed in her hand.

"That sounds like a good idea." Tom said with a nice smile, raising an eyebrow at Rachel.

Rachel smiled at Quinn reassuringly. That was the important thing. Watch her favorite movies with her favorite girl.

"_Honey it's true, I am so hung up on you_." Rachel sang brightly until Quinn's smile returned.

God. What had they been talking about before Rachel derailed them with her nonsense? Overload. She resisted the urge to sing it again and start the whole cycle over.

Rachel held her hands up to signal that she was getting back on topic. Tom and Quinn watched her expectantly.

"How do we know-I mean, won't Quinn just keep having panic attacks if we go ahead with the move?" she asked carefully.

Quinn sighed and reached over to pluck Henry out of Rachel's lap. Rachel gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand up to kiss it.

"Not at all." Tom answered confidently. "Quinn, if we prepare you for what's going to happen day by day, make sure you know what to expect, I think you'll be fine. No surprises, right?"

Quinn nodded in agreement. Tom turned to address Rachel.

"Rachel, you can make sure she's surrounded by familiar things. You. The dogs, cats."

"We have a rabbit now, too." Quinn added quietly, bouncing Henry on her knees.

Tom smiled at Rachel like he knew exactly what she was going through. No. Nobody did. Unless they lived in that apartment. It would probably traumatize most. Fuck, it traumatized _Rachel._

"Maybe look for an apartment that's more similar to the one you have now. Not like the one you looked at today." Tom offered.

Okay. So one with _doors _and _rooms_. That shouldn't be too hard.

Plus functional climate control, a balcony, a larger kitchen to destroy, multiple closets and hiding places for games and serial killers, pet friendly, _extremely_ pet friendly, and in walking distance of Central Park.

Okay, Rachel was a Broadway star, but she was not a millionaire. This might be difficult.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel found herself at the Coney Island beach the next day, lying on the sand in the sun and sorting through stacks of apartment listings that the realtor had given her. She was reading off the descriptions to Quinn, who sat a couple feet away digging a massive hole that she was slowly vanishing into. They'd come to replace the heat of their apartment with the heat of the sun.

"Three bed, two and a half bath, fitness center in the building, built in the late 1800s-"

"Veto." Quinn interrupted, face disappearing as she bent down to remove more sand. Rachel took a moment to admire the glorious shorts her girlfriend was wearing.

"Mmm." She tipped her sunglasses up to get a better look. "Why?" she asked absently.

Quinn frowned as one of her walls started collapsing. "It's older than the one we have now. So it'll make too many weird noises. And everything will just break and we'll end up in exactly the same place. But I like post-Civil War architecture. If it's refurbished or something."

Hmm. Quinn was familiar with architectural styles.

Alright. Fine reasoning. Quinn turned around to see if Rachel was listening. Rachel tried to make her face look innocent, and Quinn flushed and smiled at her, and then scurried over on all fours.

She was _covered_ in sand. It was like she'd been rolling in it. Or digging a water-logged four foot hole in it. She got sand in Rachel's mouth when she bent down to kiss her, and then sat cross-legged with both hands playing the drums on Rachel's bare belly.

"You're making me all gritty." Rachel complained, trying to swat Quinn's hands away with her papers.

Quinn smiled and changed to a slower beat.

"Okay, listen. Three bed, one bath on Park Avenue. Doorman, pets allowed." Rachel read off, ignoring the fingers on her stomach. "Pictures seem a little sketchy."

Because the bathtub looked like it was from another world. Four knobs and one faucet in the middle of the tub, instead of at the end. What is this madness? One sink and no counter space. It actually looked like a clean version of the setting of _Saw_.

"Veto." Rachel stated.

Quinn nodded along. "Not enough room for animals."

Yeah. Okay then. Rachel let that one go by.

"I like this one." Quinn said, holding up a paper with a picture of a condo built last year.

Rachel looked at it and laughed. It was definitely modern. Futuristic. Almost like a laboratory. Which would be a disaster given her problems with simple appliances. "Veto." She said with a smile.

Quinn stared down at her, head blocking the sun and creating a halo, and then looked back at the picture. "What? Why?"

"I would feel like a robot, Quinn. We need something more homey."

Quinn scooted closer so her knees pressed into Rachel's side. "But we could be like the Jetsons. Or astronauts."

Rachel snorted. Quinn's sarcasm was very rarely detectable. And this changed everything. Who wouldn't want to be like the Jetsons? Rachel shook her head with a grin. "Veto, veto, veto."

Quinn sighed. She reached over and plucked Rachel's sunglasses off and put them on herself. Rachel was temporarily blinded, so she slapped Quinn's thigh until she moved and blocked the sun again.

"Hold still. You're my shade, bear. And listen to this one." Rachel said, pulling out a promising listing. "Three bed, two bath in Carnegie Hill. Steps from Central Park, two apartments per floor, private garden, tree-lined block, sun-filled, and charming."

Charming _could_ mean obnoxiously small and dilapidated. Rachel chose to think positively.

Quinn listened intently and smiled when she heard _garden_. "The dogs would love that." She remarked, looking at the pictures.

Rachel nodded. "I like it. It's very pretty."

Quinn patted Rachel's tummy, smiling even brighter. "I like _you_. _You're_ very pretty." She commented randomly. Rachel flushed and held up the paper to block her face.

"And it has a fireplace. And a live-in super in case we catch things on fire with the fireplace." Rachel continued. She moved the paper to look up at Quinn. "What do you think?"

Quinn studied the picture and nodded slowly. "It's very…us. Comfortable, you know? And affordable. And it might make weird noises because it's kind of old, but I want the garden."

Oh, Rachel did too. She'd always had dreams of growing carrots and tomatoes in her backyard. She realized that she'd probably kill them all, but it would be fun to try. Plus she could get some pink rubber gardening boots. She'd look adorable.

"It seems quiet. Calm." Rachel commented, looking up at Quinn. "Which would be good. For you. And me."

Quinn just nodded. Her fingers were absently tracing Rachel's belly button. It was very distracting.

"You okay?" Rachel asked quietly, reaching up and gently taking her sunglasses off Quinn's face.

Quinn nodded. "I'm gonna miss our apartment."

"Really?" Rachel questioned, raising an eyebrow. Those noises. The heat. The cold. The malfunctioning microwave. Spiders in the bathroom. Marks on the wall from rogue animals. God, before Quinn moved in, the apartment had been perfect. She was like a tornado.

"Yes." Quinn stated emphatically. She smiled and put both palms on Rachel's stomach again. She just couldn't keep her hands off. "Because I never would have met you if we hadn't roomed together. And because those pipes groaning are why you let me sleep in your bed. And I just learned how to work the washing machine, so that's going to be an adjustment."

Rachel hummed. She was almost in tears. Quinn was totally right. She'd have to learn how to work a new washing machine.

"I think we would have met anyway." Rachel said logically, putting a hand on Quinn's thigh. "Barnaby is your soulmate, so he would have honed in on you and dragged me wherever you were." She remarked with a smile.

Quinn laughed and agreed.

"And I would've let you sleep in my bed anyway. If you had asked."

Which probably wasn't a policy Rachel would advise others to follow, but whatever. She remembered just melting when she saw Quinn standing in the hallway with a stuffed bear in her hand.

"And now I get you every night." Quinn said, sounding very pleased with herself. She should be. She'd wrangled Rachel Berry.

Rachel was flushing. She needed to cool down. "Let's swim." She proclaimed, standing up and brushing the sand off her legs. Quinn stayed seated and helped with that task. Though it was unnecessary.

"Only if you help me build a sandcastle." Quinn bargained.

Because a giant hole to trap unsuspecting beachgoers wasn't good enough.

"And teach me how to swim."

Rachel froze mid nod. What? She looked down at Quinn questioningly, holding out a hand so she could pull Quinn up. "You don't know how to swim?" she asked with wide eyes.

Quinn stood, digging her feet into the hot sand. She shook her head shamelessly. "No one ever taught me. We didn't…go swimming a lot."

Well. Teaching Quinn how to swim in the ocean couldn't possibly go well. Especially when it was Rachel, who only had a flimsy grasp on the concept herself, doing it. Quinn would probably get carried away in a rip tide and end up in Maine. She took Quinn's hands and looked out at the water.

"Let's go in. Waist high, because it's nice and calm, but I'll teach you how to swim in a _pool_, okay?"

Quinn nodded. "And we can get one of those inflatable Shamus, right? The whale?"

Rachel rolled with it. "Of course." She leaned up to kiss her girlfriend's red face, her cheek and then her mouth. Quinn was definitely burnt. She probably just didn't realize it yet. Even Rachel's SPF 85 didn't save her.

Rachel ran her hands up Quinn's sun-warmed, sandy back and chuckled as she tried to brush it off. Quinn wrapped her in a hug.

"Come sit in my hole with me." Quinn entreated quietly.

Rachel bit her cheek. It sounded a little ridiculous, but she nodded anyway. The water could wait a few minutes. She and Quinn had castles to build.


	28. Chapter 28

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 28: You Could Climb a Ladder up to the Sun**

Half the space of the kitchen floor was taken up by eight bowls of varying sizes and colors. Every day. They started in a line, but would turn into a minefield once the animals were let loose on them. Water everywhere. Cat food on the counter. Waffles behind the oven. This morning, Quinn put her hands on her hips and ignored the swarm around her legs, staring at the bowls on the counter to make sure they were filled correctly.

There was a small one with grass hay and lettuce, next to two cat dishes with dry kibble. For all of the little fatsos. Then there were two massive metal dog bowls filled with kibble, Sugar Puffs, and bacon, plus a smaller one that held canned dog food and a marshmallow. A single marshmallow, because Cloud needed it to grow into the big, fluffy, white monster he was destined to become.

Jelly's dish held tuna, even though Quinn couldn't stand the smell. It was also placed a little bit further away from the others, to give the half-blind cat some extra security. Quinn felt she would appreciate it.

Quinn placed all the bowls on the kitchen floor, shoving the dogs apart to prevent them from delving into each other's breakfasts. She moved quickly through the chaos, accidentally tipping over the water bowl in her path, and waited until the animals were settled and wolfing down their food before moving back to the bedroom.

She had only made it to the hallway when she heard the tell-tale clattering of giant empty dog bowls. She smiled. Barnaby and Cornelius would spend the rest of the morning scouring the kitchen for any crumbs they might have missed.

Quinn loved waking up before Rachel. She liked to lie next to her and watch her breathe and dream, and she'd thank God or whoever was listening that she'd been given this perfect little person. All to herself. This woman cuddled up under the covers in one of Quinn's shirts, because the AC wouldn't turn off, drooling onto Quinn's Dalmatian pillow and hugging Pooh Bear tightly.

Then Quinn would poke or tickle Rachel to see how much it would take to wake her up. She found Rachel's grumpy morning antics hilarious. And she knew the perfect cure for them.

Quinn crept back under the covers quietly, and scooted right up on her side so she was facing Rachel. She reached up and brushed dark hair away from where it was tickling Rachel's nose, and then tapped Rachel's fingers lightly, smiling when her girlfriend hugged the stuffed bear tighter.

"Raaaaachel." Quinn called, just under her breath.

Rachel made some kind of noise, and Quinn reached under the blanket so she could run her hand along Rachel's side.

"Little bear. Baby. Sugar pie. Honey. Sweetheart. Darling. Love of my life." Quinn whispered right against Rachel's cheek, and then leaned forward an inch to press her lips to it.

Rachel made another noise and scrunched up her face. Quinn was delighted. That was her favorite expression. Plus Rachel's quiet smile. And her laughing smile. And all her smiles and all her faces. Quinn ran her hand under Rachel's shirt and along her warm abdomen.

"Mmm, Quinn. Your hand's cold." Rachel mumbled into the pillow. Quinn watched her with a small smile. She grinned brighter when Rachel finally registered that her face was in a pool of drool and lifted it off of Quinn's pillow with an expression of disgust.

"Sorry." She said quietly, putting her head on Pooh instead.

Quinn shook her head with a smile. "Every night. I'm used to it."

Rachel palmed Quinn's face like she was trying to make her be quiet. It would not work. Quinn could not be tamed. But she'd let Rachel live in denial about her drool habits if it made her feel better.

Rachel smiled suddenly and tapped Quinn's nose. Quinn knew she was fully awake. If she wasn't, Quinn would've been poked in the eyeball.

"Today's the barbecue." Rachel stated enthusiastically.

Quinn bit her lip and nodded. She was going because she'd been promised macaroni and cheese. And Rachel said it was the perfect place to make a couple friends. Which would be nice.

But it was still a college barbecue.

Quinn knew just by looking at Rachel's face that she was waiting for words.

Patient brown eyes. Slightly raised eyebrow. Quirked up lips.

"I think we should bring peanut butter cookies." Quinn suggested.

Rachel chuckled and rolled her eyes. Quinn pounced forward and kissed her, and then crawled down so her head was under the covers and all Rachel could see was a lump.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asked, voice muffled by the quilt. Quinn felt a hand pat her on the head through the blanket.

She maneuvered around until she was able to pull the dinosaur top off over her head, and then shifted again. She pulled off her red reindeer pajama pants, smiling because Rachel had started humming the Jaws theme.

Now Quinn was naked except for her fuzzy socks, which she left on because Rachel complained about reptile feet at every given opportunity.

And God, it was getting hot under the blanket. Quinn realized she was in need of oxygen, so she climbed on top of Rachel, slithered up her front, and poked her head out from under the blanket so that it rested on Rachel's chest.

Rachel laughed and patted her head like a puppy, then palmed her red cheeks to cool them down. "Are you naked? You feel naked."

Pssht. Of course Quinn was naked. Every opportunity she got.

She nodded brightly and kissed Rachel's neck.

"Come under here with me." Quinn suggested, trying to shimmy Rachel further down the bed to enclose them in the covers.

Rachel looked dubious. And flushed. And like she was enjoying the shimmying very much.

"We'll pass out." She said, shaking her head.

Quinn ran her hands under Rachel's shirt. "It'll be worth it." She sang lightly, puffing her cheeks out because it increased the probability that Rachel would say agree. She didn't actually think they'd pass out. It might get a little hot, but they could be like bears in a cave.

Rachel sighed like Quinn was twisting her arm to do this. She patted Quinn's cheeks and shuffled lower so that they were completely enclosed by blankets. Quinn smiled in her success and set to removing Rachel's pajamas.

"Quinn!" Rachel squealed when Quinn blew a raspberry on her stomach.

Quinn laughed and kissed the same spot. She really couldn't see anything, so she just kissed everywhere. It was the perfect solution. All breathing was growing ragged when Rachel rolled her over and told her she tasted like peanut butter cookies. Again.

Quinn was pleased with that. Rachel tasted like ice cream.

Quinn loved ice cream.

Especially when it came in the form of Rachel's delightful little body.

~oooooooooo~

The barbecue was in Central Park, sponsored by one of NYU's dance organizations. How Rachel came across it, Quinn didn't know. But it wasn't as loud as Quinn had predicted. And there were no swarms of vibrantly clad students dancing in the park. Or whooping or drinking or-Quinn hadn't really known what to expect. She clutched her box of cookies and approached the moderately sized gathering, which decorated with purple and yellow streamers and tablecloths, with Rachel at her side.

In that faded Yankees cap. No sunglasses this time because Quinn needed her eyes.

"Tell me if you feel uncomfortable, okay bear?" Rachel said quietly, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. "We'll go somewhere quieter."

Quinn nodded.

She could feel Rachel's eyes on her as they approached the center of activity, which was a circle of charcoal grills interspersed with tables full of food. Quinn stopped and looked warily down at her girlfriend.

Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"Um…" Quinn began, and then decided she didn't want to talk. She started to take the top off the cookie container.

Rachel chuckled and stilled her wrist gently. "You've had four already, Quinn. You made them for everybody else." She reminded calmly, keeping eye contact.

Quinn swallowed and nodded. She looked around. She was surrounded by people. Not mobbed, but there were groups of people in _every_ direction from her. And they were in a field. She felt like she needed a wall. Or a corner.

Rachel tapped Quinn's cheek until she turned to look at her again.

Then Rachel tapped her own head. "Picture?"

Quinn grinned immediately. "Tiger." For the past two weeks it had been tigers. Huge, fluffy striped cats with paws the size of dinner plates. If Quinn could ever design her own animal, it would have tiger stripes. And massive feet.

"Did you know that tigers can reach up to eleven feet in length?" she asked Rachel excitedly as they deposited the cookies on one of the tables with food. Quinn was sad to see them go, but she watched Rachel with bright eyes.

"That's-oh my God!" Rachel looked terrified. Quinn would probably be too if she faced an eleven foot long tiger. Or a dinosaur.

Quinn grinned and put an arm around Rachel's shoulders.

They wandered around, doing a couple loops and picking up random foods like Cheetos and carrots on their way. Quinn made sure to smile at the other attendees, meeting their eyes and picturing a giant tiger sitting next to her little girlfriend. Having some kind of discussion.

Every single day Quinn found herself wishing she could talk to animals.

She joined the food crowd as soon as the meat was done, and handed a paper plate to Rachel. They stepped up to a table and looked around. Rachel looked hesitant to put anything on her plate.

Quinn swallowed and spoke up. "Are there animal products in this?" she asked the woman behind the table, gesturing to what was basically a bucket of potato salad. Rachel smiled up at her and put her hand on the small of Quinn's back.

The woman shook her head. "Just in the one next to it."

Ah. Doubles of everything. Fabulous.

Quinn nodded and put a dollop of it on Rachel's plate. She added a black bean veggie burger and a stack of carrot sticks before grabbing a plate for herself. This, Quinn filled with two burgers with buns, a pile of cheese, globs of ketchup, and multiple servings of mac 'n cheese. And a brownie.

"You'll make it collapse." Rachel warned, watching Quinn's plate bend.

Quinn continued adding to her mountain determinedly. She was starving. "Mmm, no."

Rachel rolled her eyes and dragged Quinn away from the food tables. Quinn was breathing a little more heavily, glad to be free of the hungry mob. Even if she didn't get all the macaroni.

They settled at an empty picnic table and Rachel dove right into conversation. Quinn smiled. Rachel always got straight to the point. She appreciated that. Unless she was in the process of stuffing her face with her favorite food. She still appreciated it, but she just choked a little more.

She couldn't possibly _slow down_ her eating.

Polar bears could go months without eating if they were hibernating. But Quinn didn't envy them. She needed gummy bears year-round.

"So, what vet schools will you apply to, Quinn? In…a year. I guess."

Quinn blinked and choked on her food. Rachel winced sympathetically and handed her a napkin.

"Penn and Cornell are closest." Quinn answered when she could speak again, focusing on spearing another mouthful of food.

Rachel was watching her carefully. "But which one do you _want_ to go to? If you could go anywhere in the world."

Quinn put her fork down to focus. Wasn't this the same question? "Um…Penn or…Cornell." She said slowly.

Rachel shook her head and leaned forward, taking one of Quinn's hands and pushing her plate to the side. Quinn stared at it longingly.

"Hey, focus, bear." Rachel said seriously. Quinn stared at her. If "focusing" was "getting lost in huge pools of gorgeous, expressive brown eyes," then that's exactly what Quinn was doing.

"You know, if you go to UC Davis, in California, you get to do two years working with the San Diego Zoo." Rachel stated. Quinn smiled. Her girlfriend liked to do research.

"I know Cornell's Ivy League, and all this is still a year away," Rachel continued, squeezing Quinn's hand, "but don't…limit your options just so you'll stay in the New York area."

Quinn narrowed her eyes in concentration. "I'm not-um…" she shook her hair out in frustration. Words weren't coming to her. "Wherever-wherever you are, remember? I wanna be wherever you are. If I could go anywhere in the world, it would be wherever you are. Cornell just happens to be here as well."

Rachel stared at her with that "I love you so much" smile, and Quinn flushed and played with Rachel's fingers.

"The San Diego Zoo, Quinn. One of the best in the world. Please consider it." Rachel said, intertwining their fingers to get Quinn to stay still. "I might even be able to come with you, you know. Who knows what I'll be doing in two years."

Quinn looked up at that, mildly panicked. "You-no. No. You can't-you can't leave Broadway. Or New York. You love it too much. And you're too good. And they-they need you here."

Rachel smiled and squeezed her hand. "I'm just giving you ideas, bear." She assured. "Stay open-minded. Alright? And the city's great, but I love _you_."

Quinn nodded carefully. She would consider Davis. She already had been considering it before Rachel brought it up. Mostly because of the three polar bears she knew to be housed at the San Diego Zoo.

But Rachel couldn't just subtract herself from the equation. She was like a constant in those horribly useless calculus questions that weeks to solve. God. Quinn _hated_ calculus. Rachel could be a different constant. Like the speed of light.

Quinn shook her head out looked up to find Rachel gazing at her expectantly.

Ah, right. She was waiting for something.

Quinn shoved a big forkful of macaroni in her mouth. She smiled brightly at Rachel.

"Love you too, little bear. Love you so much."

~oooooooooo~

Quinn didn't have much experience with making friends. She knew how to make Rachel laugh, and how to get Barnaby to dance, but she had no idea how to approach somebody and start forging a friendship. There were no animals at the barbecue to talk about. Quinn was lost.

Rachel stood pressed up against her side and gestured to a boy sitting on top of a picnic table with a cookie in his hand. Quinn wondered what kind it was. Chocolate chip? Maybe double chocolate chip. She'd have to look for them later on the food tables.

The boy had floppy blonde hair and the outline of a dog on his shirt. Where did he get that? Quinn wanted one.

"Just say hi, bear." Rachel urged, holding Quinn's arm. "Just sit down on the picnic table and say hi."

Quinn sighed deeply and whined a little bit. She didn't mean to. Sounds just came out of her without her consent. Rachel stepped in front of her and looked up into Quinn's eyes.

"You're okay, Quinn. You're alright." She said calmly. Quinn could be calm too. She focused on Rachel's eyes. Rachel smiled at her.

"You'll regret it if you don't say hello, bear. Just one person. That's what we're here for."

Quinn shook her hair out. She _would_ regret it. She wanted an NYU friend. The boy with shaggy hair was the only person not sitting with a group.

"Well, what do we talk about after saying hello?" she asked Rachel.

Rachel grinned and waved her arm about. "Ask him where he got his cookie! And his shirt. And tell him you like animals, and ask him what he likes."

Quinn was silent for a moment, memorizing that. She brushed some of the dark hair out of Rachel's face so she could see those brown eyes better. Then she sighed, nodded resolutely, tapped the brim of Rachel's cap, and strode off towards the stranger on the picnic table.

Quinn stopped a few feet away from him, heart hammering and fingers tapping, and smiled when he looked up. He smiled back at her. With chocolate on his face.

"Hi." Quinn took a breath. Tigers. Bears. Words. "Um, do you mind if I sit?"

The boy shook his head and gestured for her to climb on up. Quinn did so, keeping about a foot between them. She forced herself to sit still, wiggling her toes instead of bouncing her knees.

"I'm Quinn. What's-what's your name?" she asked, turning to face him. She kept her eyes on his cookie.

"I'm Sam!" He said brightly, holding out a hand. God, his mouth was huge. So his smile was huge, and Quinn liked that. She met his eyes. He looked kind. Relaxed. She smiled.

"I was wondering where you got that cookie." She admitted honestly.

Sam laughed and split what was left of the cookie in half. "Here. It was the last one. Chocolate chip."

"Thanks." Quinn said, slightly in awe that this guy was sharing his cookie with her. Rachel would say they were like kindergarteners on a playground. Quinn saw her watching from a distance and flushed.

"So, what are you studying, Quinn?" Sam asked, mouth full of cookie. Then he shook his head. "I mean, if you go to NYU. If you don't, and you're just here for the free food, well…good on you"

Quinn chuckled and nodded. "I'm-I'm pre-vet."

"Dude, no way." Sam remarked, wiping the crumbs off his face and smiling at her. "I'm studying to be an animal trainer."

Quinn's mouth dropped open. She'd love to be an animal trainer if the whole vet thing didn't work out. She turned to face Sam completely. She couldn't stop herself from rocking forward and back.

"What kind-what kind of animals? What kind of training? Do you-are dogs-do-"

Quinn shut her eyes and scrunched up her face. God. Slow down. Words, bear. She took a breath and found Sam watching her, concern and amusement in his eyes.

"Do you train dogs?" Quinn finished her question slowly and gestured at his t-shirt.

Sam kept watching her and nodded. "I work at a pet store, right now. Doing dog obedience. But I'm actually in school for aquatics. Dolphins, you know."

Oh my God.

"I love dolphins." Quinn blurted. She pulled at her rubber band. "I mean, and dog…obedience. Except my dogs don't know what obedience is."

Sam laughed.

And Quinn just felt happy. Because this guy wasn't watching her like she was weird, or asking her why she stuttered, or pressing her for eye contact and solid answers. He was laughing with her about animals and sharing his cookie.

Before Sam left, Quinn gestured for Rachel to come over and meet him. Rachel smiled brightly at them both and wrapped an arm around Quinn's waist.

Sam took one look at Rachel's hat and shook his head.

"Dude. No. I can't be friends with your girlfriend, Quinn. I'm sorry. Yanks are the enemy." He held up a Red Sox keychain that had been sitting next to him the whole time, and Quinn's smile faltered.

He looked totally serious. He couldn't be, right? Really, Rachel joked like that all the time. It drove Quinn crazy. She needed _literal_. Facts. Straight-up and handed to her. Rachel actually rarely fooled her anymore. Quinn would just tickle her until she laughed.

She probably shouldn't try it on Sam though.

Rachel leaned up and kissed her cheek, whispering into her ear in the process so Sam couldn't hear.

"He's joking, baby."

Ah, okay. Quinn smiled at Sam as he started talking to Rachel. They left the barbecue at the same time as Sam, checking to see if there were any leftover peanut butter cookies going to waste. Of course there weren't. They were amazing. Quinn was disappointed.

But then she remembered the steps she'd taken that day and squealed into Rachel's neck in the cab. Rachel squealed too, because that was just what Rachel did. Quinn bought them both cupcakes on the way home.

~oooooooooo~

Quinn was fascinated with _Dirty Dancing_. Parts of it were blowing her mind. Like the fact that "Hungry Eyes" was the song used in the M&M Pretzels commercial. Quinn didn't know why anyone would put a pretzel inside of an M&M, because that would only ruin its pure chocolatey goodness. But she liked the song. And she liked M&Ms.

She also liked the giant dancing gangster hamsters in the Kia commercials singing Party Rock Anthem. Quinn just liked giant dancing hamsters in general. Who didn't?

The other part of _Dirty Dancing_ that blew Quinn's mind was Rachel singing "She's Like the Wind" to her. Rachel's voice was her favorite sound, which is why she gladly listened to it as it yelled out the choreography for _Footloose_, the next movie on Rachel's list.

Quinn was trying to match her movements to Kevin Bacon's, while avoiding the animals and the coffee table.

"Jerk around! Jerk around!" Rachel ordered through her laughter. Quinn obeyed. She wished there was glitter falling from the ceiling like there was in the movie.

"Backflip!"

Haha. No. Quinn crouched down and did a front somersault like a first-grader in a gymnastics class, slamming her foot into the wall as she rolled forward. Rachel clapped. They'd probably get another noise complaint soon.

"Now step to the left! Twirl your hands and clap! Step to the right! Do that thing with your head!"

Rachel should be a professional choreographer with these directions. Quinn swung her head around like the guys from the movie, who seemed like they were trying to dislocate it from their bodies.

"Thrust your hips! _Harder_!" Rachel yelled, bright red from laughing so hard. "Now jump!"

Quinn lost track of all the footwork going into the final chorus, so she just flailed her body around and kicked her legs out to the beat. Very forcefully. Which is basically what the characters were doing. She threw in some hip thrusts and disco arms as well. Barnaby joined her while she was in the middle of trying to break dance, so she stood back up and danced him around the living room.

Rachel seemed like she was having trouble breathing. Quinn loved it!

She let Barnaby go and tried to do the splits for the finale, but she got halfway down and then tumbled to the floor when she lost all feeling in her legs. Quinn lay there panting for a minute as Rachel tumbled off the couch and crawled over to her.

Rachel collapsed breathlessly on top of Quinn and kissed all over her face. "You're perfect. _Perfect_!" Rachel exclaimed.

Quinn laughed and nodded. "I know I am! What's next?"

Rachel took a few deep breaths and rested her head on Quinn's chest. "West Side Story." She said, reaching blindly up to the coffee table and grabbing their bag of gummy worms. She bit off a blue end and dropped the yellow part in Quinn's open mouth.

"Can we dance to that?" Quinn asked, trying not to choke. She was fond of this. She'd never seen Rachel laugh harder in her life.

Rachel nodded. "We can dance to anything in the world, baby."

Quinn hummed. She blew in Rachel's ear and laughed when Rachel twitched like a puppy. The phone rang and Rachel got up to answer it, nudging Quinn's limp body with her foot. Quinn would get up too, but the sensation hadn't returned to her legs.

Splits should not be attempted by amateurs. People just got caught up in the moment, overwhelmed by music and impulse, and ended up tearing their muscles and collapsing onto the floor in pain because legs aren't meant to be spread one hundred and eighty degrees.

Plus, Quinn's head hurt from all that head banging. She'd lost control for a minute there. But her wits were coming back now. She listened to Rachel humming and talking quietly on the phone, and then dragged herself into a sitting position and put Cloud in her lap.

Sweet, fluffy Cloud. Cornelius was currently locked in the bathroom because he'd destroyed one of the air fresheners plugged into the walls, and then vomited in the bedroom. It did not smell like a fresh mountain breeze.

Quinn was periodically sneaking him pieces of bacon to make him feel better.

"Guess what!" Rachel said excitedly, returning to the living room and kneeling in front of Quinn. She grabbed Quinn's ears for balance. And to get Quinn to stop looking at Cloud.

"What?" she said with a smile.

"We got the Carnegie Hill apartment!" Rachel proclaimed.

Quinn grinned. That apartment was perfect for them. She started running her fingers through Cloud's fur, and Rachel caught the movement and stopped bouncing so much.

"That's perfect!" Quinn enthused. Rachel watched her carefully. Quinn never knew what she did to make Rachel look at her like that. Did she _look_ different? Rachel always seemed to know.

"Move-in day is two weeks away." Rachel said clearly, scratching Cloud's belly. "We can even postpone it if you need more time, but it's a couple days after the end of your semester."

Quinn nodded slowly. That was a lot of…change.

"But I'll be here. And Cloud will be here." Rachel lifted up Cloud's paws like he was waving. "And Barnes, Seal, Butter, George, Jelly, and Benjamin Bunny will all be here. And we'll be good, okay?"

Quinn flushed and nodded. Everything would be good. Rachel tapped Quinn's lips and raised her eyebrows.

"Okay." Quinn said with a smile.

Rachel grinned and clapped her hands. "Good! Now I'll get the movie. But I'm dancing with you this time."

Quinn ducked when Rachel ruffled her hair, and then laughed with Cloud. She checked to see if her legs could move, and hauled herself to her feet for round two with Rachel Berry.


	29. Chapter 29

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 29: A Place That Has to be Believed to be Seen**

Rachel rarely woke up in the middle of the night. Unless it was for good reason. _Very_ good reason. Like a fat cat named Butter smothering her face until she was gasping for breath. Or a gigantic bunny named Benjamin trying to scale the side of the bed like a mountain goat, repeatedly dislodging the mattress.

Sleep just came easily. So when Rachel woke up at two in the morning, breathing steadily in a still bedroom, she knew it was because something was missing. Specifically, _Quinn_. She rolled over to check, and her flailing arm came into contact with Cornelius's splotchy face. He thumped his tail against the bed like he enjoyed it, nudging her hand so she'd continue.

Rachel did, because he'd climb on top of her if she ignored him.

"Quinn." Rachel called out hesitantly in the direction of the bathroom. When there was no answer, she extricated herself from the web of animals surrounding her and crossed the bedroom, walking straight into the door frame.

Rachel was not functional in the early morning. And two a.m. was just fucking insane. She was like a foal learning to stand. She rubbed her nose in surprise and toddled out to the living room.

Quinn sat cross-legged on the couch with a chem book open on the coffee table and a pile of notes in her hand. George was in her lap, and the rocking that Quinn was doing seemed to be putting him to sleep. Rachel smiled to herself.

"You'll go blind, baby." she commented quietly, flipping on the main light to add to the little lamp Quinn had on. The main light glowed with the intensity of a thousand suns, and Rachel found herself temporarily blinded. She turned on the floor lamp instead.

Quinn whipped her head around and grinned. "I want to swim with whales in the wild."

Well, then. Was that in the chemistry book? Because it was a wonderful idea. Let's go find a pod of wild killer whales and hop right in.

Rachel was skeptical.

"It would be fun!" Quinn proclaimed, shutting her book and turning to face Rachel completely. "We could swim with dolphins and sea turtles as well. Go snorkeling and diving. Maybe Hawaii?"

Rachel nodded. She could roll with that. Unless Quinn really tried to frolic with giant humpback whales. Quinn should just be kept away from giant mammals in general, actually. Her love wouldn't be reciprocated by most.

"You'd have to learn how to swim first, bear." Rachel said with a sleepy smile.

Quinn scooted forward so their knees touched. She leaned in close, and Rachel focused on her bright hazel eyes. How was she so fucking awake? Rachel was still having some sort of mild sleepy hallucinations about the giant, terrifying shadow on the wall.

"Teach me tomorrow." Quinn suggested.

Rachel frowned. "After your final?"

Quinn nodded brightly.

Rachel looked around like she just realized she was sitting in a mountain of chemistry notes. "Why are you studying in the middle of the night? You need sleep, baby."

Quinn completely ignored this. "Will you teach me how to swim tomorrow?" she pressed.

Rachel raised an eyebrow and tapped Quinn's knees. "Will you come to bed?"

Oh God. Rachel almost jumped out of her skin when the shadow on the wall shifted. She played it off like she was standing up because she was sitting on something. She actually was, and she handed Quinn a pile of rogue chocolate Teddy Grahams before sitting back down.

Quinn looked amused. And then delighted because she was just handed a pile of Teddy Grahams. She nodded.

"But I want to ask Sam to help."

Rachel looked at her in surprise. It was a good idea. Sam wanted to train dolphins, so he must swim like a dolphin. Of course. Plus, he could guarantee that Rachel wouldn't accidentally drown her girlfriend.

"That's a wonderful idea." Rachel proclaimed, sitting up and kissing Quinn's cheek. She couldn't find the strength to move back, so she just let herself fall forward over Quinn. Quinn laughed through her Teddy Grahams. Rachel buried her face in blonde hair.

"So…I'll call him tomorrow morning." Quinn said, running her fingers gently through Rachel's hair. "Do you think he'll say yes?"

Rachel nodded. She heard the pitter patter of a swarm of little feet coming from the hallway. And big feet. Big, thumping, clumsy feet.

They'd awakened the beasts. Rachel groaned and Quinn laughed.

"I'm ready to go to bed now." Quinn whispered. Rachel could feel a cat climbing up her leg. Out of the corner of her eye she could see it was orange. Or she thought it was orange. Her eyes were starting to blur. It could've been purple.

Quinn slithered out from under Rachel, and then rolled Rachel over and scooped her up. Rachel was half asleep. She looked over Quinn's shoulder as she was carried to the bedroom and spotted six animals trailing along behind them. Barnaby was still on the bed.

Cornelius had the box of Teddy Grahams in his mouth.

"Why were you awake in the middle of the night?" Rachel mumbled into Quinn's shoulder. "You've been studying all week."

Quinn placed Rachel under the covers and climbed in next to her. Rachel listened to the random thumps of other animals jumping onto the bed. Hurling themselves at the bed and falling to the floor.

"I want to do well. It's the final. And I'm…nervous_._" Quinn said quietly, kissing Rachel's forehead and cuddling closer.

Rachel hummed. She didn't really understand Quinn's words right now. "You'll be wonderful. You'll be able to swim with blue whales. It'll be fun."

Quinn was silent. Probably a little confused. But delighted at the thought. Then she sighed and wrapped her limbs around Rachel.

"You're just perfect." She said with a smile. "So perfect."

~oooooooooo~

Rachel and Quinn sat on the side of the pool, kicking their legs and watching Sam blow bubbles in the water. He was demonstrating what Quinn needed to do to increase her "water awareness." Quinn seemed pleased that this was part of learning to swim. She loved bubbles.

Who the hell could hate bubbles?

Quinn slid into the pool and gripped onto Rachel's legs, happily dipping her mouth below the water and blowing bubbles.

Sam nodded along. Rachel was dubious. Until Quinn inhaled some water and started choking, nails digging in to Rachel's calves. Rachel and Sam helped her grab the wall instead.

"It takes a while to get used to." Sam said easily. "Knowing how far your nose and mouth are above the water."

Rachel brushed the wet hair off Quinn's face and slid in to the water next to her.

"Now we want to try treading water." Sam said, pushing away from the wall to demonstrate. "Remember, soldier-chicken-tee, soldier-chicken-tee." It echoed off the walls. It was a good phrase to be echoing off of walls. Entertaining. Intriguing. A little random.

Quinn nodded. They'd practiced the arm movements on the pool deck a while ago. She pushed off the wall, moving her arms a little frantically, and Rachel followed. After she checked that the lifeguard was still in his little tower.

"Okay. Slow down, slow down." Sam directed calmly. "Focus on breathing as well."

Yeah. Breathing would be a good idea.

"When you inhale you'll float, and when you exhale you'll sink. Try to time them with your soldier-chicken-tees."

Rachel nodded. She hadn't learned the "soldier-chicken-tee" method when she was a kid, which is why she was going for something more like "disco-Poliwhirl-jazz hands." She was actually sinking lower than Quinn. It was very good that Sam was there. Rachel had been right. He was basically a dolphin.

"Alright, good job Quinn!" he praised with a smile. It faltered when he looked at Rachel. "Rachel, uh…less spinning, more up and down movement, okay."

Rachel nodded, spinning herself around like a washing machine. She got this.

Quinn started laughing, and then choking again, and Rachel sorted herself out.

"When can-when can we use those?" Quinn stuttered out between mouthfuls of water, struggling to point at the kickboards and inflatable Shamu on the deck.

Sam grinned. "Soon, dude. I wanna make sure you don't drown doing this first."

Quinn splashed him in the face. She got Rachel as well, but Rachel was mid-Poliwhirl so it didn't go in her eyes. Sam dunked under the water to make sure their legs were doing the right movements, and then came back up and shook his hair out.

"How was your exam, Quinn?" he asked, moving to the wall. "And you can stop kicking. You're good. Rachel, if you can stop spinning, I'll let you be done as well."

Okay. When had he started teaching Rachel how to swim?

Rachel frowned. The spinning was instinctual or something. It was inside her. Innate. If she focused, she could stay facing one direction. But Rachel's body was obviously made to spin. Fly. Stand out. Whatever. She was a fucking star.

"Um, I'm glad it's over." Quinn replied, clinging to the wall like a koala. Rachel went and grabbed onto her back when Sam finally nodded his approval.

"Any plans for before fall semester starts?" Sam asked, hopping easily out of the pool and grabbing some clipboards. Even Rachel couldn't ignore his abs. But she wrapped her arms around Quinn and kissed the back of her neck. She liked these better.

"We're moving tomorrow." Quinn stated. Rachel squeezed her tighter, until they both started sinking and Rachel grabbed the wall instead.

"Oh yeah!" Sam exclaimed. He handed each of them a kickboard and jumped back in the water. "I was gonna say, if you need any help, I'm totally free."

"Can you tell us where we can swim with whales?" Quinn blurted, and then shook her hair around. Rachel gave Sam a nod and a thumbs up to let him know that yeah, they could use his help. And this was totally normal. Sam just chuckled.

"Um, well I went to Waikiki last year. I swam with some wild dolphins. I don't know if you can…_swim_ with whales. Like…they might accidentally kill you. Or purposely. Whatever. And people would sue."

Quinn processed that for a minute. "But…we could swim with wild dolphins?"

Sam nodded brightly. Rachel thought of the perfect way to spend a couple weeks between the end of summer semester and the start of fall.

Hawaii. With turtles and dolphins and Quinn.

"Alright, you guys, take these, hold them like this," Sam held a kickboard to his chest with his hands on its sides, "and paddle to the other side of the pool."

Quinn nodded. Rachel looked down at her kickboard. "Wait, Quinn, trade me. I want the pink one."

Quinn rolled her eyes and accepted the green one from Rachel. Then she took off for the other side of the pool, kicking like she'd lost the use of her arms. Rachel watched with amusement.

"Like a bicycle, bear. You're not trying to take off and fly." She called out after her girlfriend.

"And focus more on moving _forward_ than staying afloat." Sam added. Then he frowned. "But…don't sink either. And, dude, you're not a mermaid."

Good advice. Rachel took her own kickboard and followed in Quinn's wake. She'd rather play with those giant pool noodles or underwater skateboards. Squirt guns. Inflatable rings. The whale. She was just glad Sam hadn't handed them water wingies. Rachel was pretty sure the family at the other end of the pool recognized her, if their staring was any indication.

That, or they were amused by the three weirdos in the deep end.

"Can I ride the whale now?" Quinn yelled out.

Sam held both his hands up and gestured for her to come back. "If you make it back alive!" he laughed loudly.

Rachel just followed her girlfriend around with her little pink kickboard, ready to rescue anybody if necessary. She helped Sam assist Quinn in mounting the inflatable Shamu, getting a couple good gropes in, and grazing her knuckles against the wall in the process. The blood was a little alarming, and she climbed out of the pool before the sharks could get her.

Rachel sat and watched Sam ferry Quinn around like a tugboat while Quinn patted the whale's head and kicked with her legs. Quinn accidentally kicked him in the head, and all he did was shake the whale a little bit. This was a good guy, Rachel determined. She probably would have knocked her girlfriend off into the water.

Pssht. Yeah right.

"Rachel! Get on with me!" Quinn requested, directing Sam over to the edge where Rachel was sitting. Her knuckle had stopped bleeding, so she slid onto the whale behind Quinn, held onto Quinn's waist, and fell backwards into the water half a second later.

Flimsy fucking Shamu.

Rachel emerged with a smile, ready to climb back on, but she registered that Quinn was in the water as well. Coughing. Flailing a little bit. Probably discombobulated. Sam grabbed her waist, getting smacked in the face, and Rachel surged forward and put a hand on Quinn's back. The lifeguard stood up, and Sam gave him a thumbs-up when they reached the wall.

Quinn kept coughing, and Rachel thumped her back a few times before rubbing it. She grimaced at the red mark on Sam's face. Sam just waved her off and held onto Quinn.

"Breathe, baby." Rachel said quietly. She slicked Quinn's hair off her face. Quinn took a few deep breaths and coughed to clear the water from her airway.

"You good?" Sam asked a minute later, cautiously removing his arm.

Quinn nodded and smiled like she was bewildered. "That was…God. I want to get back on. Will you get back on with me?" she asked Rachel.

"You sure?"

Quinn nodded again, already looking around for the whale. Sam handed her a kickboard. "Do one more lap, dude. And then you can ride the whale. And then we'll teach you freestyle."

"Okay." Quinn said breathlessly, kicking off the wall already. She looked like a pro. Who'd had a little scare with a plastic whale.

Rachel grinned and watched her go. Then she grabbed her own pink kickboard and followed right along.

~oooooooooo~

Rachel had no recollection of her fathers moving a four thousand pound dresser up the stairs to her apartment six years ago. She had probably blocked it out. Or received some sort of injury that blocked it out for her.

What the fuck was it made of? Lead? Plutonium? That seemed legitimate. Solid plutonium with a faux-wood finish.

This dresser was currently lodged in the door at the top of the stairwell, supported by eight people who had no fucking idea what they were doing. They should have built some sort of contraption to lower the dresser down from the balcony.

Because that could only go well.

"We need to turn it so it's lying on its back!" Kurt yelled out in an alarmingly high-pitched voice.

They did this and scraped their way through the doorway, probably leaving multiple gashes in their wake. Now Rachel stood backwards at the top of the stairs, desperately clinging to the dead weight in her hands.

"Go slowly! _Slowly_!" she yelled, glancing at Quinn to make sure her girlfriend hadn't passed out. Quinn was facing forwards, luckily, gripping the side of the dresser and glowing bright red from exertion.

"Lift up your end!" Puck bellowed from his spot next to Rachel. "Get it over the handrail!"

And drop it so that it fell eleven stories. Rachel was ready for that. It was a good plan. Then she could buy a dresser that wasn't made of solid stone.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Santana screamed from where she was being compressed into an unnatural angle against the handrail. Rachel and Puck shifted to the right so that she wouldn't be forced over the edge.

"Don't-say that-word." Quinn groaned, shaking her head around and knocking it against a protruding drawer. Rachel took a couple steps down, moving incredibly slowly and preparing for her arms to drop off at any second. She was fully expecting to be bulldozed by a runaway dresser in the next two minutes. This was like torture. She could hear Blaine moaning on the other side like he was being stabbed.

"Don't trip, Rachel!" Sam shouted.

Because that's exactly what she'd been planning on doing.

Rachel wasn't even sure where Sam was. Fuck, she didn't know where _she_ was right now. Up or down? Left or right? Stairwell or hell? They reached the first landing and got everybody on level ground before taking a break.

"Put it down _gently_! Watch your feet." Rachel directed breathlessly. She lowered her arms half an inch before they gave out and the dresser crashed to the floor like an anvil in a Wile E. Coyote cartoon. She stepped back and collapsed against the wall, clutching her heart and watching her friends do the same. Santana was tipping herself over the railing, though she probably wasn't aware that she was about to plummet to her death. Sam claimed the top of the dresser as his new bed.

It seemed like Puck was crying. Rachel couldn't feel her arms.

"Alright!" Brittany exclaimed brightly, clapping her hands together. "Ten and a half more floors guys! We got this!"

Yep. No. Not happening.

Rachel swayed a little when she pushed herself off the wall and Quinn staggered forward to steady her. Or grab her so that they'd be dragged down together.

"No. We're done. We're leaving it here." Rachel said, looking down at the dresser like it was a demon. It was. It was a fucking demon. Unnatural. Goddamn seven thousand pounds.

"On the landing?" Blaine asked, a little too eagerly.

"Yes." Rachel said resolutely, already tripping back up the stairs. "Someone else can have it. Or take it away. Or whatever. Do whatever the fuck they want. I'm done with it."

Quinn slapped Rachel's butt for her language, but didn't protest.

"Dude, it's a nice dresser." Sam stated, still lying on top of it. "You could call some professional movers. I mean we've done, like, half the work already."

By moving it twenty feet from where it'd started.

Quinn pointed at him. "Yes. Good. Let's do that." She grabbed Santana's arm and helped Brittany pull her off the banister.

"So we're just…abandoning it. In the stairwell." Kurt clarified, holding up both hands and looking for a nod. He shot up the stairs after Blaine as soon as he got one from Rachel.

Then Rachel realized that to get the dining room table downstairs, they'd now have to traverse the abandoned dresser. God. By the end of the day the stairwell would be a graveyard of forsaken furniture. A fun little obstacle course that the other residents in the building would surely appreciate.

~oooooooooo~

Despite a few more setbacks involving an alleged hernia and a cat attack, the move was completed in a day. Rachel was prepared to take two, if Quinn got a little anxious and needed to stay in their old apartment for another night, but all went well. The professional movers would deliver the dresser tomorrow. Rachel was disappointed she wouldn't be in the stairwell to see how _that_ would go down. Literally, down. Because dropping it ten and a half floors seemed to be the only way.

Now everybody was arranging furniture in the new apartment and putting the boxes in the correct rooms. Or lying on top of the furniture and dumping random crap anywhere they could find a space.

Rachel headed towards what was designated as the office, with a box marked "smiley faces and balls," when Puck grabbed her arm and steered her in the opposite direction. They moved back into the bright living room and he took the box out of her hands.

"Quinn doesn't want you to go in there." He explained when she raised her eyebrows. Rachel narrowed her eyes and glanced around for clues.

What had Quinn done? Broken something? Hidden something? Painted some giant mammal on the wall? Maybe she was storing animals in that room. A horse. A fucking bear.

Puck held his hands up like he had nothing to do with it. Rachel stared at him. "She's got a surprise or something." He offered.

"Is it dangerous?"

Puck snorted out a laugh. "Danger-what? No. What kind of life do you live, Rachel?"

Jesus. Rachel didn't even know. She turned when the front door opened to see that Quinn, Santana, and Brittany had returned with the cats. Butter and George had their faces pressed against the doors of their cages like they were too fat to be contained. Quinn eagerly let them out and grinned when they shot through the apartment and straight into the kitchen. Jelly was slightly more graceful, but she had the same destination in mind.

"Berry!" Santana exclaimed, sauntering over with something held behind her back. Rachel was wary. Brittany bounded up to her as well.

"Look what we brought to celebrate." Santana said, holding up a bag that held two wine bottles. Brittany held up two more bags. "And blondie says she wants to try."

Rachel blinked and looked at Quinn, who sat cross-legged on the floor playing with Benjamin a few feet away. Poking him and getting kicked in the face.

"Really? You'll have some, Quinn?" Rachel asked. Then she narrowed her eyes. "Did they pressure you? We don't have to drink anything, you know. We can celebrate without alcohol."

Santana's eyes widened.

Quinn stood up and smiled. "It's strawberry flavored, little bear. I might like it."

Rachel was not a fan of fruit wine. It equated to eating a mountain of Pixie Stix for her. On top of another mountain of Pixie Stix, because that was Rachel's default setting.

She watched Quinn carefully. "If you're sure."

Quinn nodded and put her hands on the top of Rachel's head. "I like strawberries…Especially with Cool Whip and chocolate syrup. And when you put them on waffles and stuff."

Rachel waited. Quinn got a little sidetracked sometimes.

"I don't-I don't usually drink because I don't like it…but I haven't really, uh, tried everything. Or anything." Quinn finished with a tug on Rachel's ears.

Rachel smiled. "Just tell us if you don't like it."

Because strawberry wine made Rachel want to throw up it was so nauseatingly sweet. She was glad Santana had brought Merlot as well. She was also glad that their couches hadn't been abandoned in the stairwell and that they could sit on them right now. Rachel settled in an armchair, pushed right up against Quinn, and Sam sat on the floor with the dogs while everybody else took the sofas.

Quinn loved the wine.

"It's sort of like…mild Lemonheads. But…the strawberry version. Like sort of sour, but…bouncy. Like chili."

God. She'd had three sips. She couldn't be drunk already, right? Rachel rolled with it. She laughed, and then held up her glass when Kurt toasted to their health and happiness in their wonderful new home. Then somebody whipped out the Bop-It because it was the only thing they could find, and because they were obviously suffering from some sort of severe lapse in judgement.

A war erupted. A _war_.

Drunken Bop-It was almost as bad as sober Monopoly.

_Flick it_.

Half of Puck's body spasmed to be able to "flick it" before time ran out.

_Twist it_.

Now Puck flailed in the opposite direction, moaning when the machine did its little cry of failure. Its whine that sounds like a robot being tortured.

"Fuck this. Stupid…Piece of shit." Puck handed it off to Sam, who was crab-walking around the floor for whatever reason. He seemed to be racing some animals. And Brittany. Somewhere.

"You still feel alright?" Rachel asked Quinn quietly, putting a palm on one of her flushed cheeks.

Quinn's face was just locked into a permanent grin. She was only on her second glass. But it was her second glass _ever_, Rachel was keeping an eye on her. Those hazel eyes were still pretty clear. Quinn was just _happy_.

"I want to show you the room now." Quinn said, standing up and wobbling slightly. She held her hand out for Rachel. "We'll be back." She proclaimed to the Bop-It war happening on the floor.

Quinn stood outside the office door and held both of Rachel's hands in her own. Maybe for support. So she wouldn't fall over. Rachel couldn't tell.

"I hope-I hope you like it." Quinn said softly. She puffed out her cheeks and took a deep breath. "I feel really-I want to kiss you right now, but I also want to…I want to ride on some swings. And play with Barnaby, and have some more Lemonheads. So…you can't spend too much time in there."

Rachel just laughed. She head-butted Quinn in the chest and just _laughed_. Then she kissed her and sucked the strawberry off her tongue and her lips. Even if there was a feral bear in there, it was totally worth it.

Quinn opened the door and guided Rachel in with a hand on the small of her back. Rachel stood in the middle of the room and Quinn turned on the light, standing off to the side with her hands behind her back and a nervous smile on her face.

Rachel blinked and looked around. It was like Quinn's room, part trois. But it was Rachel's stuff. There were two bookcases along the walls, one empty, and one lined with trophies and ribbons from high school and college. Plaques. Certificates.

"The other one's for, um, when you win Tonys and Oscars, or-or whatever you want." Quinn said quietly.

Rachel kept spinning around. Playbills. Broadway posters. Autographs and pictures. They all lined the walls and the shelves. Rachel was ready to start crying. Quinn stepped forward and gestured to the wall directly opposite the door. It was filled with pictures of their animals. Black and white, posed, color, candid. All seven animals. Plus Pongo. And Quinn and Rachel in the middle, with blue tongues and laughing faces.

"Britt and I took most of these. You can-you can replace them with something else if you don't want them in here, but I thought-I thought we could add to it as we get…more animals."

Over half the wall was empty.

Rachel put her hand over her mouth because she felt like she was _exploding_. Quinn stepped in front of her and tapped Rachel's nose with a smile.

"Words, little bear."

Oh God. Rachel would gladly fill that wall with Quinn. Ten times over. A hundred times. Rachel let the tears go and wrapped her arms tightly around Quinn. She couldn't speak for a couple minutes, and Quinn just rubbed her back until she was ready. When Rachel pulled back, Quinn wiped the tears away.

"I love it. I love it _so much_. It's so perfect, baby." Rachel made an exasperated, sniffly noise because she just couldn't adequately describe her adoration for this room. "I can't-it's so-God. I love you."

Quinn kissed Rachel again to prevent her from saying anything else. Spewing out any more nonsense. But her hazel eyes were shining with delight.

They returned to the living room to say goodbye to their friends, who had to tear themselves away from Bop-It and cram into a taxi because of work in the morning. Quinn finished her glass of wine and pulled off all her clothes as soon as she was in bed with Rachel. Just to sleep. In their quiet new room with seven other animals.

"I think…I can't hear...Any pipes." Quinn commented stiltedly. Rachel ran her fingers through blonde hair and nodded.

"That's good, right?"

Quinn hummed. "I can-Can we get an aquarium tomorrow?"

Rachel chuckled into Quinn's neck. That seemed low maintenance. Fish couldn't destroy anything. They'd all die soon anyway. If Rachel was involved.

"We'll see." Rachel said quietly. "Go to sleep, baby." She looked up, surprised to find how clear Quinn's eyes were.

"I'm so glad you love me."

Well. That was something Rachel just couldn't help. She'd been hooked since the elephant note on the fridge seven months ago.

She felt Cornelius settle in behind her and the cats drape themselves over her legs. She had Pooh Bear and Quinn and all these animals, and God. She was experiencing sensory overload today.

"Because you make everything better." Quinn finished quietly.

Rachel kissed Quinn's shoulder and allowed herself to be enveloped by Quinn's warm body. She inhaled and sighed happily. Quinn still smelled like gummy bears. It was like home to Rachel now. A gummy bear house full of colors and animals and song and dance.

Rachel fell asleep on the Dalmatian pillow, locked in Quinn's octopus trap, overheating slightly and listening to Barnaby snore. She truly could not be happier right now.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Last chapter! Thanks to everybody who's stuck with this, reviewed, made playlists, fanart, everything. You all are amazing. I don't think I've told everyone, but I have Asperger's, and I've dealt with social anxiety, and it's so great to hear that there are so many people who can relate. If you have any questions about it, I'd love to answer them. And hear your animal stories. Here or Tumblr. The follow-up will be called Still off the Key of Reason, and it'll cover the rest of their lives. Also, I hope you all find an animal to love. People count. They're animals too.

**Just off the Key of Reason**

**Chapter 30: So Let this be the Chance, the Only One that Counts**

_Rachel! I went to get your favorite curry from The Green Mango. And Skittles. And a Peppermint Pattie. Also, bacon because the dogs are being good. I won't be long. I made you cookies, so you can have those while you wait. –Quinn_

_Also, I love you little bear._

Rachel smiled at the note. Two years, and the elephant at the bottom of the paper hadn't changed. This one was smiling just as brightly as always. Its trunk reached up and touched the wonky writing, happily looping under the "bear."

There were only five cookies left. Rachel took them all and moved to the living room to collapse on the couch, holding her treasures over her head and away from the animal swarm. She shoved a few fluffy faces away so that she could take a bite.

Or a mouthful. A whole cookie, because two years had not dulled her appreciation for them at all.

"You're such a mess, Cornelius." Rachel mumbled around her mouthful, spitting out crumbs and leaning forward to pluck some kind of stuffed animal fluff off the dog's head. She wondered what he'd destroyed. But she did not want to find out.

Cornelius sat back with both his paws on the couch, staring at Rachel with his little demon eyes. She looked away to do her quick head count.

Giant white ball of fluff? Check. Currently lying on his back, waiting for a belly rub.

Gigantic chocolate rabbit? Check.

Orange Jelly Bean? Check. Rolling dementedly around in the corner with a catnip toy.

Two chubby cats who like to climb things? Check. Currently halfway up the curtains.

Impossibly excited golden retriever with bright brown eyes? Check. He had gray hairs growing around his nose now. But they couldn't be seen at the moment through the mud on his face.

Huge fish tank, complete with a turtle called Franklin? Check. Any day where none of the other animals were found swimming in the aquarium was a success to Rachel. And finding no dead fish was just a miracle. Quinn had been horrified when she'd caught Rachel flushing both Splishy and Splashy down the toilet. At the same time.

Like a mass murder. Mass fish body disposal.

Rachel stuffed the rest of her cookie in her mouth and surveyed the living room, and what little she could see of the kitchen, for their latest addition.

Charizard.

A bright red golden retriever whose snout had been irreparably damaged after being forced to hold a fire cracker in his mouth. Quinn had named him, because he'd "harnessed the power of the fire" and overcome the whole ordeal. He was a sweetheart with kind eyes, but he'd rarely let anybody near him unless Quinn was in the room.

Rachel got up to find him after rubbing Cloud's tummy. She smiled, knowing exactly where he'd be. Quinn liked to sit with him in the cozy little office, rubbing the part of his nose that he still had and feeding him Sugar Puffs, telling him that he was perfect and handsome just the way he was.

Because Quinn knew they could understand her.

"Hey, Char." Rachel said softly, opening the door to the office and stepping inside. She let the other animals follow. Barnaby and Cornelius sauntered right up to the trophy cases like _they_ had won the Tony that was inside. Charizard's tail thumped. He liked every single animal in that house. Sure, he was disfigured and his breathing sounded like a broken jet engine trying to take off underwater, but his heart worked just fine.

Rachel kind of wanted to put firecrackers in the mouths of the people who did it to Char. She didn't tell this to anybody, because she was almost intense enough to go through with it, but it was on her mind. Quinn agreed. Quinn would probably put a cannon in their mouths.

"Quinn is making you fat, bud." Rachel commented lightly. She waited until Char came up to her before petting him. She watched Cornelius out of the corner of her eye to make sure he wasn't knocking over any bookcases or eating any walls.

He was only chewing on the wheel of the office chair.

"You know Char, you're just like me." Rachel said absently, lightly scratching his back and holding Benjamin's scruff with her other hand to prevent him from initiating an overly enthusiastic, painful "play session" with his legs of fury.

"We both have…odd noses." She said slowly. Her gaze drifted around to the pictures and posters on the wall. "Nobody has noses like ours, Char. But there's a girl…who loves both of our noses, just the way they are. And she _knows_ you are the handsomest boy in this house."

Charizard's breathing doubled in volume. Rachel assumed he was agreeing with her. Who could possibly disagree? Barnaby and Cornelius sat in the corner staring at her blankly. They disagreed.

Rachel was making Char sit up so that he could breathe more easily when she heard the front door open.

The smile was automatic, and it grew with the squeal of excitement she heard coming from the entryway. Rachel was buffeted around as the dogs bulldozed out of the office to greet their master. Ruler. Their God. Rachel tapped Char's nose softly and followed right along.

"Rachel!" Quinn shouted breathlessly, trying to pet all the dogs at once, bent over and spinning around in the foyer.

Rachel walked up behind her before Quinn could yell some more. "Hey, babe." She greeted with a grin.

Quinn stood up straight and whirled around, surging forward to plant a nice, big kiss on Rachel's lips. Rachel's legs buckled with the force of it, but she gave back as good as she was getting.

Quinn pulled back and licked her lips, bouncing on the balls of her feet and tapping her fingers on her jeans. She put the bag of food on the entry table and looked at Rachel with bright hazel eyes. She looked like she was about to explode.

Rachel laughed. The enthusiasm was contagious. _Quinn_ was contagious. Quinn was explosively contagious and it was infecting every warm body in the house. Even the fish were swimming faster. Or getting caught in the filter and fighting valiantly before dying.

It was probably the latter.

The excitement could stem from any number of things. It was spring break for Quinn, so…Sleep. Extra cookies. Working at the rescue. Swimming. Seeing a stripy dog on her walk home.

But Rachel thought she knew what this was about.

"What happened? What did you do?" she asked with a grin, tapping Quinn's cheeks. She was going to take Quinn's fidgety hands before someone's eye was taken out, but that was the kind of energy that couldn't be contained. She put her hands on Quinn's shoulders instead, looking up expectantly.

Quinn was blinking rapidly. Rachel waited.

"I was-I was on my way back from-from the restaurant," Quinn began breathlessly. She started bouncing up even more. Rachel applied more pressure to her shoulders. Quinn was about to fly away.

"And I got-I got-My phone-they-" Quinn exhaled sharply and shook her head around. Rachel tugged on one of her ears to give her something to focus on.

"Little slower." She said with a smile.

Quinn took a deep breath. Her grin was so big she could probably fit an animal in her mouth. Like a hamster. Which is exactly why Rachel didn't own any hamsters.

They would only end up in something's mouth.

"I got a phone call…on the-on the way home." Quinn said slowly. Rachel knew exactly where this was going. She bit her lip to keep herself from squealing in celebration, and allowed Quinn to finish.

"It was the Davis admissions officer."

Noises started coming out of Rachel's mouth before she had the chance to stop them. Whiny noises of self-restraint that wouldn't last much longer. Quinn put her hands on either side of Rachel's head and moved forward so they were only a couple inches apart.

Rachel could smell the Peppermint Pattie on her breath. She could _see_ the Peppermint Pattie on Quinn's mouth, and wiped it off with her thumb.

"I got in."

Rachel screamed. She would've screamed even if Quinn had said "they rejected me," because it was just building up inside of her. Rachel just needed to scream sometimes. A lot of the time. Rachel actually spent an inordinate amount of time screaming.

But this time it was joy and excitement, and she bounced up and down with an equally delighted Quinn a few times before pouncing into her arms and clinging like a koala.

"You did it! You did it!" She squealed. The animals bumbled and danced around Quinn's legs like they knew exactly what was going on. They had known it the whole time, and they never had any doubts.

"I did it!" Quinn exclaimed, jumping around with Rachel in her arms. She tripped on a cat and caught herself by crashing into the wall. _Very_ gracefully.

They'd gone two years getting multiple noise complaints from neighbors. They weren't about to stop now.

Rachel realized she was probably seconds away from some kind of head injury, so she squeezed her limbs around Quinn tighter to get her to slow down. Stand still. Quinn leaned back against the wall she'd crashed into, holding Rachel up and pressing her face into Rachel's hair.

"I'm so proud of you, bear." Rachel proclaimed, kissing on Quinn's face. Hair, cheeks, neck. Wherever she could reach. Quinn was vibrating with excitement. Rachel switched tactics and started kissing Quinn's neck, sucking right below her jaw.

Quinn tilted her head, smiling off into space, thinking about God knows what. Dolphins. Penguins. Whether she'd ever be able to saddle and ride a zebra.

Rachel squeezed tighter with her legs and Quinn whined and ran her hands under Rachel's shirt, pushing off the wall and moving to the bedroom. She accidentally kneed Barnaby in the face, and he gladly took it as an invitation to waltz into the room after them. It was playtime!

Quinn deposited Rachel on the bed and locked the animals back out. Then she ran back to it and pounced lightly on top of her. Rachel laughed and mussed up Quinn's hair while she kissed her.

Quinn ducked away and put an elbow on either side of Rachel's head, staring down at her and smiling softly.

"I got into Cornell _and_ Davis." She said quietly.

"Of course you did." Rachel murmured, brushing the hair out of Quinn's eyes. Quinn reached down to untie Rachel's sweats, so Rachel started unbuttoning her girlfriend's shirt. It smelled like dog.

"I'm going to be a vet." Quinn said in her husky voice. The voice didn't match the bright red face and puffed-out cheeks and innocent eyes, and Rachel loved that. She didn't know how the hell they were still carrying on a conversation.

"Of course you are." She said, slipping the shirt off of Quinn's shoulders and reaching for her belt.

There was never any doubt in Rachel's mind that Quinn would get into vet school. There was a bright red dog with a mangled nose sitting in the office to prove it. Plus seven other animals on the other side of the bedroom door, waiting to be let in for playtime.

~oooooooooo~

"I didn't get Skittles." Quinn lamented, plopping back on the bed with a tray of re-heated food from The Green Mango.

Dumping half of it over the blanket and then scrambling to clean it back up.

Rachel was too busy watching the show on the TV to notice. Or answer. It was about people with strange addictions. Like eating toilet paper. Glass. Chalk. Fucking _hair_. People who ate their own goddamned hair. Extra points for follicles.

God. Just the word _follicle_ made Rachel want to vomit.

The episode on right now was about a woman who treated her twelve teddy bears like children, and believed they returned her affection, prioritizing them above her family and friends.

Rachel glanced at Pooh Bear lying face down at the foot of the bed with Quinn's bare feet on his head, a plastic bag covering his body, and spilled curry on his leg. That was not how you would treat a child. Rachel was in no danger here.

She gladly took the food Quinn offered when the show went to a commercial.

"Where should I go?" Quinn asked bluntly, dumping a pile of cheese onto her food and watching Rachel earnestly.

Rachel narrowed her eyes. She was still thinking about teddy bears coming to life. People eating hair. Teddy bears eating peoples' hair.

She shook her head clear it of all _that_. "What do you mean?"

"Cornell or Davis." Quinn stated. "Where do I go?"

Rachel laughed softly. "Baby…wherever you want."

Quinn scrunched up her face and shoveled some food into her mouth. She dropped a few stray pieces of chicken in Charizard's mouth, slowly, because it took him a while to chew, and sent all her green beans in Cornelius's direction. Quickly, because Seal was a vacuum.

"I'd like to…go somewhere."

Well. _Yeah_.

Rachel wasn't sure she was on the right page of this conversation. She waited to see if Quinn was just having problems phrasing what she wanted to say. Quinn was mid-swallow when she shook her head and looked at Rachel again.

"I mean, _go_ somewhere. Like get out of…New York." Quinn scooted forward while she spoke, maintaining eye contact, and accidentally letting Barnaby stick his face in her food. Rachel shooed him away.

"The vet school at Davis is in a redwood forest." Quinn stated, obviously still in awe.

Rachel smiled. Visiting the school for Quinn's admissions interview had been an adventure. They'd flown in to Sacramento on a Friday morning, interviewed Saturday morning, and then left Saturday night. Rachel knew that Quinn couldn't wait to get on a plane again. She hadn't been nervous at all after their mini vacation to Hawaii two years ago. She'd been thrilled.

Take-off was the highlight of her life.

Excitement had definitely overridden anxiety in the airports. And Rachel had a day off from the animals, leaving _that_ mess to Brittany and Santana to deal with. They'd come back to find the dogs locked in one bathroom, the cats in another, and Benjamin winning a fight with Flappy the duck.

It was all worth it for the redwoods. And Quinn's face when the plane landed in California.

"And it's-I'd get to work at the zoo in a couple years. I mean, there's-there are zoos here, but…there's no guarantee with them." Quinn continued. "And Davis was so…relaxed."

Rachel nodded. It was like a different world. Laid-back. Easygoing. Vet school might be an energized hellhole, but the redwoods and open spaces would balance it out. Plus, the students went around riding red double-decker buses. Rachel would pick Davis for that experience alone.

Rachel would apply to vet school if she got to ride around in double decker buses all day.

"You sound like you know exactly where you want to go." Rachel stated softly, tapping Quinn's wrist with her fork.

Quinn just looked at her for a moment. Rachel turned the TV off because it was distracting even though it was muted. This was an odd conversation to be having when both she and Quinn were half naked, and there was a woman on TV having a breakdown because her stuffed animals didn't love her enough.

Rachel put her food down and placed her hands on Quinn's knees.

"Funny Girl's ending in four weeks." She said, making sure Quinn was focused on her eyes.

Quinn nodded slowly.

"I don't have any plans to start anything new here."

Again, Quinn nodded. She hadn't even blinked yet, she was so focused. Rachel smiled at her.

"Tina's looking into movies. Television. Any upcoming projects around northern California. Teaching opportunities at the UC drama department. Performing arts academies." Rachel squeezed Quinn's knees. "I could spread my glory and star power to the west coast, Quinn. Those poor people have been deprived of my talent for far too long."

Quinn finally laughed, and Rachel ruffled her hair.

"I don't want to drag you away from anything." Quinn said, ducking away.

Rachel tapped her cheeks. "You could never _drag_ me, babe. Just say the words and I'll follow you anywhere. Because I love _you_, and this is what I want too."

Literally, Quinn could drag Rachel anywhere. Anybody could drag Rachel anywhere. A fucking _child_ could drag Rachel anywhere. But she usually wanted to go where Quinn was concerned.

Quinn bit her lip, head tilted down at her lip. Her face was bright red, and Rachel bounced them around a little waiting for a response.

Quinn looked up with a smile. "Love you too. So much." She murmured. Then she grasped both of Rachel's hands and grinned widely.

"Let's move to California."

~oooooooooo~

Quinn was in the front row on closing night. Along with Brittany, Santana, Puck, Kurt, Blaine, Tina, and Sam. Two years of shows hadn't done anything to lessen Rachel's nerves or excitement. She was bawling by the time the curtain closed. Partly because of the twelve minute standing ovation, and partly because she could see Quinn crying and clapping the loudest front and center.

"You're the brightest star I've ever seen, little bear." Quinn proclaimed, bursting into the dressing room after the show. "You're perfect!"

She picked Rachel up and spun her around while their other friends filed in, slightly more in control of themselves than Quinn was. And Rachel. Rachel was very rarely in complete control of herself.

"You didn't forget the words, Berry." Santana stated with an appreciative nod. It was probably supposed to be a compliment. A Santanified "good job. You rock."

Brittany and Sam plopped down on the couch and dug through a bag of Starburst that was a permanent fixture of Quinn's on the coffee table.

"Except for that time a couple months ago when there was a drunk lady in the audience singing the wrong lyrics, and Rach decided to join her." Kurt added helpfully.

"_Accidentally_." Quinn defended, putting a hand on top of Rachel's head like a puppy. "And that-that drunk lady sounded really good. I would've started singing her-her lyrics as well."

Rachel would agree. Except she'd sang "_come blow my horn_" instead of "_I'll blow my horn_," and blanked on "_who is the pip with pizazz? Who is all ginger and jazz? Who is as glamorous as_?"

All of the words she _had_ used rhymed, so…At least nobody who wasn't familiar with the show knew she'd messed up. And she'd won a Tony anyway.

She was a fucking star.

Rachel watched Santana pick random cosmetic products off her dresser like she was shopping in a store. She grimaced at a particular shade of lipstick and threw it in a drawer like it was toxic. Rachel didn't stop her because they'd have to clean out the dressing room tomorrow anyway.

And Santana had already stolen half of everything that had ever been in that dresser.

"How do you feel? Do you miss it already?" Blaine asked with a smile.

Rachel looked up at Quinn, who was watching quietly, hand still atop Rachel's head.

"I feel…Yes. I miss it already." Rachel admitted. She still had the tear tracks on her cheeks. "But…I'm _so_ proud of this show. It's really-It's something the cast and everyone involved can be proud of forever. Tell our children about."

Rachel reached up to take Quinn's hand off the top of her head. She squeezed it. "And now I'm ready for something new. Whatever it is, wherever it is. I'm ready."

"You should become a professional surfer in California." Sam suggested through a mouthful of Starburst.

That was one option.

Blaine smiled. Kurt looked a little anxious next to him. Santana dropped a couple nail polishes and one of them shattered on the floor. Brittany laughed.

"But you'll be back to Broadway, right?" Kurt checked.

Quinn answered immediately, hugging Rachel into her side. "Of _course_ she will. Broadway needs Rachel Berry. It's where she belongs."

~oooooooooo~

Quinn graduated, with honors, on what had to be the hottest day of the year. Rachel really couldn't complain though, because she was in a light dress while Quinn was in some kind of torturous, velvety black robe of death that acted as a giant insulator. An oven. Quinn was being roasted in an oven.

Santana, however, had no qualms about complaining and informing everybody around her that she was sweating her ass off. Repeatedly. Loud enough for anybody she'd ever met to hear.

"I'm _so_. Damn. Sweaty." She groaned, fanning herself uselessly.

Rachel was sure NYU had plenty of auditoriums. They did not need to hold graduation outside where it felt like they were standing on the surface of the sun.

"It's so fucking hot." Puck moaned for the fourth time, waving his limbs around for some kind of relief.

Rachel ignored him and fanned herself with her program, eyes focused on Quinn as she got nearer to the front of the line. The paper was coming apart in her hands. She was a little disgusted.

"I'm getting sweat stains on my new shirt." Kurt complained, holding his arms out to the side. Blaine hummed sympathetically.

"Guys, shut up." Sam said, pulling out Rachel's video camera and trying to figure out how to turn it on. Tom leaned over next to him and pointed out the right buttons.

Rachel kept her eyes on Quinn. She wouldn't be surprised if her girlfriend tripped going up or down the steps to the stage. Or fell off the stage in her excitement. Or in some kind of heat-induced-body-shutdown issue. Rachel could see that her face was bright red already.

"I am sweating my ass off." Santana whined. Brittany shoved her in the shoulder and she just toppled over into Puck's lap. The heat was sucking the energy out of everything.

"_Shut up_." Sam repeated. "I'm recording this. Be civil, dudes."

Santana rolled her eyes, but straightened up, along with everybody else, when Quinn got up to the stage. Rachel balled up her hands and put them on her knees to force herself to stay seated.

"Quinn Fabray." The man in purple robes called out. His looked thicker than everybody else's. How the fuck was he still standing?

The other thing going through Rachel's mind was "don't fall, don't fall, don't fall." It's probably what went through everybody's minds at any kind of graduation. Rachel stood up and whooped and clapped as she watched Quinn shake the dean's hand, look him straight in the eye, and receive her degree. Santana and Puck wolf whistled. Kurt was shrieking in the background.

Hopefully it wasn't caused by some sudden onset health issue.

Quinn turned to them and smiled widely. She stumbled on the last step coming down from the stage because she wasn't paying attention, but collected herself nonchalantly and managed to swagger away. Yeah. She'd done that on purpose.

Rachel laughed. Her girl was a college grad.

Now Rachel had to force herself to stay seated for the other two thirds of the fucking alphabet. She was melting in the sun, and her hair felt like it had been set on fire. It might _be_ on fire for all Rachel knew. Maybe if somebody set a fire they would end the ceremony early.

Unfortunately, none of her friends smoked. Or wore glasses. Or carried around magnifying glasses.

The sun was fucking setting by the time Marcus Zipperer graduated.

"Hey smarty pants!" Puck greeted Quinn when it was all over, giving her a big hug while everybody else slithered their way through the crowd of hot, sweaty people. It was like a rave. Plus black gowns. Everybody was bonding over sweat and tears. The sweat caused the tears.

There would be about five hundred people who would find some very unnatural tan lines at the end of the day.

As soon as Rachel fought her way out from behind a family of twelve over-enthusiastic redheads, she pushed Puck out of the way and grabbed Quinn's flushed cheeks, leaning up and planting a kiss on her lips. She held it there until Quinn started laughing into her mouth.

Rachel pulled back and held tightly onto Quinn's gown instead.

"We brought you some water." Brittany stated helpfully, holding out a bottle. Sam nodded. He held out a cup of ice to go with it and fanned Quinn's face with his program. Rachel was ready to dump the water over her head.

She managed to control herself.

"Quinn." Tom said, emerging from the sweaty mass, panting a little bit. Eyes sparkling. Quinn turned to him and smiled, one arm around Rachel's shoulders.

"Hi, Dr. Madison!"

Tom smiled and winked at her. "I'm not supposed to have favorites in my profession. But I just want to say, you are one of the most special people I've ever met."

Quinn turned even redder and looked down at her feet, and Rachel poked her in the ribs.

"And it has been a pleasure talking to you every week. You and Rachel. And I won't be able to _see_ you in California, but, girl, I'm expecting lots of calls." Tom raised his eyebrows and Quinn nodded vigorously.

"I just wanted to give you this before you go." Tom held out Henry, the octopus Beanie Baby, and Quinn took it like it was the Holy Grail.

Rachel laughed at Santana's expression. Classic "what the fuck is wrong with these people?" Or "fuck, I'm about to pass out."

Quinn gave Tom a hug. And then everybody else a hug. And then Rachel again, because Rachel would always get more hugs.

"So, are we celebrating?" Kurt asked, obviously eager to be _inside a building_.

Quinn glanced around at all the red faces and rocked back on her heels. "Um. I-I want to take Rachel somewhere. Just the two of us, but we could-we could celebrate tomorrow. Right? I'll make lots of cookies."

Because celebrating had to involve cookies. Cookies were the definition of a celebration.

Quinn and Rachel said goodbye to their friends, who were gradually stripping as they made their way out of the courtyard. Sam had lost his shirt. Santana lost her heels. Blaine and Kurt's ties had been lost for hours. Rachel helped Quinn take off her gown, and straightened the small bow on the side of her summer dress.

"Where are you taking me?" Rachel asked as Quinn led her along the sidewalk, avoiding all the cracks and swinging their hands between them. Rachel loved Quinn's surprises, but they usually involved an inordinate amount of physical exertion, and/or making a fool of oneself.

Quinn put an arm around Rachel's shoulders and kissed the side of her head. "You'll see." She said quietly.

Rachel had an inkling of where they were going when she saw that Quinn was heading for Central Park.

But the sun was going down. And she really hadn't worn the right shoes to waltz around a zoo for several hours. Rachel had _never_ worn the right shoes to the zoo.

They reached the front gates about ten minutes later.

If Quinn wanted to go see some bears on her graduation day, then Rachel was gonna go see some fucking bears. No doubt about it. Feet be damned. She raised her eyebrows at her girlfriend and smiled.

"We won't be here for long. I just wanted to… see the polar bears." Quinn explained hesitantly. Like she was afraid Rachel would say no. Rachel chuckled and nodded, gesturing for Quinn to lead the way.

They went straight to the polar bear enclosure. To the same bench where they'd said "I love you" for the first time. Where Rachel had given Quinn her bear charm necklace. Where Rachel had sat because her feet had been destroyed.

The polar bears were eating carrots, like always, and Quinn just watched them for a few minutes with one arm around Rachel, the other nervously tapping against the bench.

"You okay, bear?" Rachel asked once she noticed it. She tickled the back of Quinn's neck to get her to look at her.

Quinn took a breath and sat up, turning her body to face Rachel.

"When-when you are a bear of very little brain, and you think of things… you find sometimes that a thing which seemed very thingish inside you, is-is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it."

Okay.

So. Was that a…yes? Rachel narrowed her eyes in confusion. Quinn rocked to the side a little bit.

"You…are a bear of…_big _brain." Rachel said stiltedly, and then chuckled because it was ridiculous.

Quinn shook her head and tapped Rachel's thigh, and Rachel focused on what she was saying. Fucking focus. Quinn was serious here.

"I mean, Rachel, you…brought everything out of me. You started a couple years ago, and you're still doing it."

Rachel nodded slowly. This seemed sort of random. She put a hand on Quinn's thigh to stop her from rocking.

"You and your dog, um, _inspired_ me, I guess. Made me want to be better for you. Because-because you just make everything better." Quinn said softly, and then bit her lip.

Rachel smiled. This was a wonderful heartfelt conversation occurring next to some bears stuffing themselves with vegetables.

"You've made me see…um…" Quinn scrunched up her face for a second. "That I'm…odd. But, in a good way. Weird. But you love me for it. And you're a little odd too, but I love you all the more. And together, I don't know…we're a little off the key of reason, but…hippos are born underwater."

Wait.

What? Had Rachel blacked out again? Her heart was beating faster now, because she felt like this was leading somewhere, but that threw her. Quinn could work hippos into any conversation. Maybe not _smoothly_, because Rachel was still wondering what had happened, but she'd squeeze 'em in there.

"And then they grow up, and they can live on land as well. And-and they can open their mouths four feet wide. Top to bottom. But they have to get out of the water at some point. And I think…" Quinn sighed. "I think it's probably really scary. When you're just a little hippo and you have to get out of the water where you were born."

Rachel was fucking lost. Quinn was leading her through her head right now, and it was like a confusing wonderland. But she was overheating, and her heart was thudding like crazy because Quinn's eyes just looked so intense.

"You can't stay in your corner of the forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes. And you…taught me that too. So now I'm coming to you with a question, and I kind of-I wanted to ask you on-on closing night of your show, to make it more special for you, but it was really loud, and-and crowded, and I didn't…"

Quinn shut her eyes and shook her head around. Rachel was frozen. She kept her eyes locked on Quinn's face, trying to restrain herself. It was unbelievably difficult. Quinn was _probably_ about to ask her if they could get another fucking cat. She really shouldn't jump to conclusions.

"You make it better. And I love you so much." Quinn said slowly and quietly, shiny eyes fixed on Rachel's. Then she moved off the bench and got down on one knee, pulling a small box out of the pocket of her dress.

The wall containing Rachel's emotions was fucking coming down and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Rachel Barbra Berry…Little bear." Quinn said with a nervous, smile, opening up the ring box with shaky hands.

"Will you please marry me?"

Rachel crashed through the wall.

She didn't even know what came out of her mouth. Some sort of garbled affirmation amidst the tears. Quinn had said _please_. Quinn had proposed. And she'd said _please_. And Rachel was having trouble processing.

She wasn't aware of what her emotions were doing. All she could do was keep a hand clamped over her mouth, tears running down her face, trying to prevent herself crying out too loudly. Startling the polar bears.

Because everybody knew polar bears were very easily startled by young women.

She nodded vigorously and slid down in front of Quinn, burying her face in blonde hair. _Laughing_ now.

Quinn held her tightly and whispered in her ear. "Words, little bear."

Rachel laughed louder. She was losing control of herself. Going round a bend and never coming back.

"_Yes_. Yes! Of course, yes. _Always_, yes." Rachel proclaimed, pulling back to kiss Quinn's delighted smile. Over and over. Quinn grabbed her hand and slid the ring on to her finger, having some difficulty because both of their hands were shaking so much. It was beautiful. A classic princess cut diamond ring. With no animals on it. It was Rachel's new favorite thing in the world.

Aside from her _fiancé_. Her fiancé, Quinn Fabray.

She sat, basically in Quinn's lap, in front of the bench, letting Quinn wipe away her tears and letting Quinn whisper happy things in her ear. Like, they should get married in a bear enclosure. And they could invite Barbra to the wedding. Quinn stood up when her legs fell asleep, hair mussed, face red, and tear tracks on her cheeks, and held out her hand for Rachel. Rachel's legs weren't really working. Nor were her eyes. She couldn't tear them away from Quinn's face.

She couldn't reach out her arms, and she couldn't control her face.

Quinn grinned and turned around, bending over a little. "Come on little bear, I'll carry you."

Rachel didn't even hesitate. She wrapped her arms around Quinn's neck and buried her face in gummy bear-scented hair. She was never letting go. Quinn would have to pry her off when they got home.

And then Quinn started walking, and Rachel held on tighter. And it was truly the happiest moment of her life. She was taking it all in, and it was overwhelming.

Rachel said goodbye to the polar bears, and let her own big bear carry her home.


End file.
